


The Last Ship Ever

by Wynja2007



Series: The Starlight Gemstone Series [16]
Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Gaps in one's memory, Gen, M/M, Museums, Passage of time, Sailing To Valinor, Silvans are Not Like Other Elves..., Transitional Objects
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-03
Updated: 2016-05-10
Packaged: 2018-05-30 23:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 38
Words: 106,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6446773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wynja2007/pseuds/Wynja2007
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thranduil wakes to find himself in the 21st century with no real knowledge of how he got there. As he begins to piece together his fragmented memories, he remembers; he had a son...</p>
<p>Can he find out what happened to Legolas?  Is he the last of his kind left on this much-changed Middle Earth, or are there others?  </p>
<p>And if others have survived, can he find them and lead them across the Sundering Seas? Can he find a ship, the last ship ever, to take his Silvans home...?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Genius Loci

To begin, it was just me and the monkeys.

I found this somewhat confusing at first; I had never been exposed to monkeys before and it was a long time before I understood what they were… and even longer before I realised their present condition was not their normal state of being.

But I digress.

Suffice it to say that I found myself custodian – guardian, caretaker, of a brand-new storage unit intended to house all those objects for which the local museums had neither space nor time nor appropriate conditions for display.

A very large area, cold, dry, with shelves that rolled together to save space and large display racks down the central area. Sliding vertical mesh storage provided safe places for thinner, intended-to-be-wall-mounted items. Drawers and wardrobes for clothing.

All this I learned as new members of staff arrived and were inducted. Generally I used to sit with my antlers and listen in. At first they people did not even notice me. After a while they became used to me.

My antlers? Well, not personally mine; I am not, obviously, an elk or a stag or any member of the genus cervidae. These were borne by my last steed, Bold Hart.

Of course, who these days has ever heard of a riding-elk? More like to deer than to moose, Bold Hart stood as high as I do at the shoulder… I had several such steeds in my time, but Bold Hart had the widest spread… looking at these antlers now, they are still magnificent! At some point they had been collected, and mounted with a false skull between – these were not taken for Bold Hart after death, I knew for a fact. No; as with all of his species, Bold Hart cast his antlers each year and grew a new set the following.

And why an elk? When one lives in the deeps of a forest it makes sense to use a creature of the forests. And when one stands almost two metres tall, and one’s only alternative is a shaggy little forest pony, one adapts… The elk and deer of today, their backs are wrong for riding; they are not strong enough to bear a man. 

But this was long ago.

And besides, the term ‘man’ does not apply to me.

The antlers, of course, are why I am here. They are my… transitional object, my totem, that one thing I cannot leave alone. If I were a ghost, I would haunt them.

I am not. I am a caretaker, a custodian… an anachronism, perhaps.

 

It had never occurred to me that there could be any others of my kind, why should it? After all, it was mere chance that I had not faded, my strong associations with Bold Hart keeping my fëa bright. 

My awakening had been a surprise. 

And so had the arrival of the monkeys.

It took me a very long time to get used to these simian artefacts, and when I realised properly what they were – the skins of poor dead creatures preserved and stuffed in a grim semblance of life – it took me a far longer time before I could bear to even look at them again. In fact, it was only once the tours started that I began to gain perspective, as the various guides explained how the monkeys got to be in such a sorry state.

One day, bored, I was listening in as a new guide was taking a tour. In truth, all were new, but this lady was newest. She was one of those pleasant, expansive women who were perhaps past their best without realising it. Not that human women have ever had any appeal for me; it is not their fault, they are simply not my species.

But the poor lady was put in charge of a group of schoolchildren. I am sure there is a better mass noun than ‘group’… ‘rabble’ springs to mind as more appropriate ‘orc-pack’, perhaps… and they were asking questions the woman could not answer. She was becoming increasingly flustered and I saw one or two of the boys exchanging glances that told me, sometime father of three lively elfling lads in their day, that mischief was brewing.

The tour guide was trying to interest the children in a display of toys which their grandparents would have known, had they been lucky, but the delights of tin zoo trucks and brightly coloured tricycles was lost on these more sophisticated brats. From where the tour was positioned, my side of the storage area, with its racks of rolling shelves, was out of sight and I decided to take pity on the poor woman. I like to think I was mostly motivated by protecting my environment, but it did have rather more to do with the desperation in her voice.

So I went to the cupboard at the end, the one that held sharp things, and I took out a rather fine sabre. 

There was a small, but interesting, selection of bladed weapons, and while none compared to the twin swords I used to bear, still I enjoyed practicing with them and now I stepped out, swirling the blade in a dance of steel over my head and around my body in swiftly arcing sweeps. Aware I was now the centre of attention for the entire group, I finished with a flourish, rested the tip of the weapon on the floor and folded my hands on top of it.

‘This sabre was the weapon of choice of one of the royal princes of a minor European house in the nineteenth century. The tales all tell that he killed no less than three hundred men with it, before he was done. His own death was rather ignominious – typhoid, I believe. Miss Dunbar, good morning. I wonder if Marek didn’t tell you I would be joining your tour today? No?’

She looked at me in a kind of fascinated horror. It’s an expression I’ve seen many times, usually in the eyes of my enemies as they saw my implacable swords coming towards them… 

I realised I had crossed a line. Until now, while many had known of my existence in a vague, peripheral sort of way, none had really noticed me. Now I had just announced myself and I realised something important. Being noticed made me real: I had a chance to become a part of this word, such as it was, once again.

The children were staring at me and I took advantage of it to introduce myself in the manner in which I would be addressed for the foreseeable future.

‘I am… Professor King. I am the nearest thing this store has to an expert on all the collections. If you have any questions…?’

And they did. From the personal: ‘Why is your hair so long?’ ‘Is it? I thought yours was rather short…’ – ‘Why are there so many dead animals here?’ – ‘Because the live ones wouldn’t stay...’ to the obscure. ‘Yes, but what where the names of the men that prince killed...?’ ‘Do you really have time to listen to me recite three hundred names, many of them in a language you would not understand, or would you prefer me to show you the antique handcuffs?’

One question, just when I thought they had stopped, annoyed me a little.

‘What’s wrong with his ears?’ the small voice whispered, very quietly, from the back.

I was there in an instant, having lost none of my customary fluidity of movement. Bent forwards from the hips, my hands clasped behind my back, my face a breath away from the child’s, I answered him.

‘Not a thing, penneth, which is why I was able to hear your question from almost the other end of the room. Have you any further enquiries you wish to make, may I ask?’

I saw him gulp and shake his head, trying to back away from the ice of my gaze. Perhaps it was unfair of me to single him out for such attention, but, really, it felt rather good to be assured that I had lost none of my accustomed menace. I do not know how old he was, I would guess at about thirty or so… no, I am thinking in terms of my own kind, let me see… about nine or ten, perhaps. I have tried to keep up, but it can be difficult.

Standing straight once more, I stalked away, leaving a cluster of nervous giggles in my wake as I re-joined Miss Dunbar and launched into a rather graphic explanation of the damage a man-trap (aisle seven, top shelf, well out of reach of little fingers) could do.

I remember how disappointed Galadriel had been when Celeborn had taken hers away from her, claiming that it was one thing to shoot arrows at trespassing Men, and quite another to trap them and then keep them as guests and make them listen to her granddaughter Arwen singing…

After that, of course, I gave them the nightmare version of everything – aided and abetted by the hapless Miss Dunbar who was almost smiling by the end of it - the dear little children were removed from my presence and I found myself alone once more.

Apart from the monkeys, of course.

*

Later, Miss Dunbar came back looking for me.

‘Professor King? I wanted to apologise, nobody told me anyone was working here today…’

‘In fact, I am here most days. I’ve simply never introduced myself before.’

‘Well, I’m very glad you did. I love working here, but I don’t usually do the school tours.’

‘I know.’

‘So… excuse my asking… have you been here long?’

‘Yes. From the beginning, really. I arrived with the antlers, there. I even,’ I paused to eye her speculatively, ‘predate the monkeys.’

She laughed.

‘Well, it’s lunch time. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?’

About to decline, my curiosity was piqued.

‘Thank you, yes.’

And so it was that I discovered I could leave the storage area and move around in the regions beyond; it seemed that once another person could see me, I was visible.

And hungry.

It is strange, but I did not remember having needed sustenance before.

I was glad now that I had spent so much of my lonely time keeping up with the linguistic changes so that I was able to read the menu. Not that it helped, much. What was a Frappuccino? It sounded dangerous, to me. Or Panini? Neither word seemed part of the culture around me.

Once more my exceptional hearing stood me in good stead. I saw someone at the counter, asking for food, and recognised the component parts of their meal so that by the time I and Miss Dunbar got to the head of the queue I was able to ask for a cheddar and ham ciabatta with side salad and a glass of orange juice. I was feeling quite proud of myself, until I realised I was supposed to pay.

No currency on me, of course.

Ms Dunbar stepped in.

‘Let me,’ she said. ‘I did offer.’

‘I am grateful, you are most generous.’

*

I could not remember having enjoyed a meal so much for millennia. But then, I could not remember quite when my last meal had been, come to think of it, so it was hardly surprising. I do not think it was just the food; I think it was the fact that I was interacting again, talking to someone who was listening, who was responding to my words. Someone who could understand me.

Mostly.

‘So, where did you used to work?’ Miss Dunbar asked. ‘I know you said you arrived with the antlers, but where from?’

‘From Eryn Lasgalen,’ I said absently, so intoxicated with the flavours of food and drink that I was paying not near enough attention to my words.

‘Oh, one of the Welsh universities?’ she said, filling in the gaps in her own knowledge with a guess. ‘I have a friend at Lampeter in the Special Collections Library there…’ 

I nodded and smiled, allowing her to continue in her misapprehension. It was easiest. She talked on for a while of books and how she much preferred working in libraries and... how did she put it...? ‘behind the scenes’ to leading tours, particularly of children.

‘I’m a bit on the shy side, really,’ she said. ‘Libraries and museums, they attract people like me because of that. But what you don’t realise, the places are always more full of people than they are of books or artefacts. Sometimes I feel like hiding.’

I nodded. After all, what had I been doing for the last millennia or so?

We finished eating and drinking but somehow we lingered, talking. I would like to say, talking easily, but in truth, it was not easy. After my near-slip with Eryn Lasgalen I was more guarded, and Miss Dunbar, having admitted to being shy, seemed to find it difficult to keep a conversation going, as if the admission had somehow stripped her of her ability to pretend she knew how to converse.

But, still, we sat, determined not to separate back into our individual islands of solitude. Indeed, I was not eager to move, since I was not sure how I would find my way back to my warehouse full of objects. Perhaps I would not be able to do so at all, perhaps, now, taken away from the reassuring proximity of Bold Hart’s head-set, I would lose my grip and begin to fade, after all this time…

And all for what? Fruit juice. Cheese, ham, bread, a few green salad leaves…

Green leaves…

Green leaf

Greenleaf

Legolas

Legolas Greenleaf

My son.

The words stirred something, a memory, an ache, and I wished I had not come out from my sanctuary, wished I had not followed the words and connections through to remember.

My son. Oh, my son, so bright, so golden… what had become of him?

The last I knew, he had intended to sail West, with his friend the dwarf Gimli. But that was long ago now, thousands of years, and I had lost track of what had happened. Had he sailed with the dwarf? Or had his lover been able to persuade him otherwise? For now, the more I thought of it, the more I remembered, and I did recall he had a lover, one who did not want him to sail with his cross-species friend, one who would have had every right to be jealously angry… had he been? Had he been angry enough, jealous enough, lover enough, to keep my son on these shores, somehow, in spite of the ties of friendship with the dwarf?

I found myself longing to know, just as I recognised and realised I had been hiding from my memories as much as from the world.

A light touch on my wrist, making me flinch. I could not remember the last time I was touched by another living being. It was startling and shocking and made me hungry all over again.

‘Are you all right?’ Miss Dunbar asked. ‘You looked a bit… sad. Lost in thought. I don’t mean to pry, I’m the last one to… sorry.’

‘No, no. My apologies, really. I was… something reminded me of my son. I don’t know where he is.’

‘That must be awful for you. I know where mine is… Durham University, studying Fine Art… But… you have to let them go, don’t you?’

‘Yes. Yes, I suppose you do.’ I remembered how humans communicate with their faces, and so I smiled for her. ‘I am sorry. It was very rude of me.’

‘No, it fine. Nice, in a way, almost. That you don’t feel the need to try and talk all the time. It’s a lot easier than having to make small-talk.’

‘There were always too many important things to say, I remember, for us to have time for the inconsequential.’

‘Well, lunch break over. Thank you for listening,’ she said, not realising that half the time I had merely been listening for the ghosts of footsteps from the past. ‘I’ll see you again?’

‘Well,’ I smiled again. ‘I think you know where to find me. I’m always there. And I truly am sorry about lunch. Perhaps I could return the favour one day?’

‘I’d like that. I’m on 2233, just ask for Lily.’

‘Lily.’ I didn’t know what the numbers meant, but I stored them away in my memory, just in case I could find out. ‘My name is Thranduil.’

‘Is it?’ she said. ‘Sorry – it’s unusual, I mean. But… it suits you.’

She flushed and got to her feet with a clatter.

‘Well, don’t want to be late back… see you again.’

‘Until later.’

*

Back in my warehouse, I looked around with new, fresh eyes.

I knew everything here, of course, had seen it arrive, had read the labels, had listened in and understood what was behind them, what the systems were. But so much of what I had heard had been without context, familiar words put to unfamiliar uses… even though I had kept up with the languages, kept reading, there was nothing in this storage facility to help; it was a repository of the past, not of the present, and the nearest it came to the modern age were a few items from thirty years ago – not even a blink of an eye for an elf, but in terms of the present progress of humankind, an entire age of change.

Take transport, for instance.

I have been able to follow the development of transport, up to a point, from the objects housed here. In my day, of course, we rode, we had carts and horse- and ox- drawn conveyances, boats and ships, barges and rafts. I had my elk, a succession of elks. And that is how things stayed, for a very long time. Oh, designs altered – carriages became more comfortable, warmer, more padded, more upholstered… but very little changed for millennia. Then some brave fool invented an engine, and everything altered, it seemed, between one breath and the next; steam trains, steam carriages, horseless carriages, cars, trucks, motorbikes, aeroplanes, if you can imagine, tubes of metal transporting persons through the skies… space ships and rockets… all these things I read about, saw pictures of – even models, toys based on the vehicles.

And the bicycles.

I actually thought these were rather clever, when I first realised how they worked. A frame on which one sat, like to a horse (or an elk) but with pedals, not stirrups, to push into and make the wheels turn and carry you forwards. There were about a dozen of the things here, black and rusted and stern, all angles and circles, intriguing and enticing… they lived high above my head on top of the central rack of shelves, tauntingly out of reach.

Once, though, they brought some in – not so old, still working, I heard one of the staff say. Still in ‘good nick’, which seemed to mean, functional. They were the last made by a particular manufacturer, and as such, were to be preserved. The staff member even mounted one and rode up and down on it before leaving it propped against the side of the shelf.

Of course, I couldn’t resist the opportunity to learn a new skill.

For three glorious weeks those bicycles were without a specific storage place, and so each night, once the store was empty, I would try them out.  
It was not as easy as it looked.

Still, it passed the time, and, being an elf, I do heal remarkably quickly. Who knew the ground would be so much harder when you fell from a bicycle than off an elk?

By the end of the second week I had mastered it, and was riding around the warehouse with my long hair streaming out behind me like a pennant. It felt incredibly liberating.

Of course, it did not last; one day they came and took the bicycles off for display in the Transport Museum, and I was left eyeing the much older, more decrepit and locked-in-place iron steeds on top of the racks with regret. Their handlebars, especially on the ones with the rod brakes, reminded me of Bold  
Hart’s antlers.

With a drifting sigh I pulled my attention away from the bicycles; I had been prevaricating, trying to avoid thinking about today, this day, and the memories that had risen up to sting me. As a half-way point between pain and memory, I allowed myself to consider Lily Dunbar instead.

She had seemed to like talking to me, even though she did not seem very used to talking in such a way. Presumably, as she had a son at the young adult stage of life, she must have – or have had – a spouse, or a partner… or perhaps she was divorced.

I had some knowledge of divorce, read of it here and there. It seemed odd to me, that you would consider being with someone and then breaking apart from them so suddenly with such apparent ease. But perhaps, when you do not have forever, you do not take as much care when choosing or seeking your fëa-mate, and then, you would not have long to decide whether to live with your mistake or cut yourself free.

Of course, even for us, it was not always perfect; there were sometimes mistakes, and when it was found that a couple had taken vows to please their families, where one or other (or sometimes both) were actually drawn to a partner of the same gender, rather than the opposite, sometimes an annulment could take place. But only for those who had not sworn beyond the bounds of Middle Earth, who had taken short vows which would end when death or sailing sundered them.

But never divorce.

As for me, I had had one great love in what now was starting to feel like a very long life – the mother of my children, now herself long dead, poor melleth... but there had been another, no more than a dear friend, really, but whose gentle companionship and bright, spiced humour brought me many long years of pleasure. I wondered what had become of her... vaguely, I thought there had been a ship... a small boat, rather, taking her to a larger vessel, taking her away, taking more than just her with it...

This was no good; I would become maudlin if I permitted myself to continue in this vein, and then I would mope, and perhaps even begin to fade. But I had lasted so long, it was becoming a matter of pride to me to endure. Perhaps I would still be here when humankind had managed to destroy their environment utterly, when nuclear war or accident would fireball across the planet, leaving behind just me.

And the cockroaches.

Well, that would be something to look forward to, would it not?


	2. Gaps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil tries to remember...

The storage facility was, as has already been said, laid out in orderly rows and areas, replete with shelves and wardrobes, drawers and racks. An attempt had been made to keep like with like, where possible, but some items were too large to comply with the system. A stuffed striped horse, (a zebra, no less) testament to the taxidermist’s art, was far too large to sit on the shelves with similarly ill-fated monkeys and weasels and stoats, and so stood in mouldering splendour at one end of the central shelves.

And not all the space was filled; there were interludes. Gaps, waiting to be populated with more items.

It struck me, as I wandered alone in my domain that afternoon, that I was rather like those shelves.

As I cast my mind back, I realised there were considerable gaps, nay, voids, in my recollections, not just odd stutters, a day missing here, what was for breakfast on the thirteenth day of Ethuir in TA 76, for example, but whole, entire chunks of history, gone, lost from my mind.

Was it simply that I had blanked them out, that I had let them pass me by in sameness and tedium? Or had I deliberately refused them, blocked myself from permitting them mind space? Or could there be a more insidious cause, was it symptomatic of a larger problem?

Well, I had time to consider the matter, at least.

It was not as if I had anything else to do.

Some of the memories were pleasant, but most... ah, I have often wondered why the pleasant memories run so pale against the difficult recollections... I went and sat with Bold Hart, or what was left of him, and although I did not want to face the pain of remembering, I made myself try, and the more I focussed, the more I remembered and the more I felt, the more the pain prodded me into more memory...

I allowed myself, compelled myself to run back over my early life, my upbringing, Mirkwood, the devastation that was Dagorlad and all our losses there… our removal from Amon Lanc to the Great Caves to the north of the old road, the birth of my sons, the loss of their mother… she had refused to be my wife, my queen, she thought herself unworthy of such status, she let it be believed, so when she died – and to me, she died embattled, as much a victim of the troubles on our borders as the warriors who fought and fell there – when she died, all was at an end between us; she had insisted she had no claim on me or I on her, in whatever followed.

Her loss had bitten at me like vipers, day after day, and I had withdrawn, coping, managing, but not living… struggling to stir myself to support my sons as they tried so hard to support me in my grief. They were adults grown, by then, of course, but… 

One day a healer had come to me, daring to speak out.

‘My king,’ she said. ‘Your sons need you. I know of your loss, we all know, and feel for you, but, oh, my lord king, they… they are without her, too. The princes have lost their mother. Do not make them feel they have lost their father, also.’

Oh, I could have banished her for her impudence, and it was not that I was not tempted. But she had nursed my love, had befriended her and so perhaps had some small right to speak up. Instead of showing my ire, I had raised a languid hand in dismissal, and within an hour, I was walking in the grove where the fëa-trees grew, my sons with me, listening to them begin, falteringly, to unburden themselves.

The loss of their mother had been their first real taste of gall amongst the honey of their lives, but it had not been the last for my poor boys... 

My Legolas, I learned only later, had lived in fear for many decades, worried how I would respond when I discovered he was… there was a word in the far-off days of my father, one I had tried not to use, but I use it now as it reflects his fear at the time… afflicted. Which is but to say, he was never going to take a wife, and not so much an affliction as simply a difference in his fëa’s yearnings. But in my father’s day, it should be understood, it was considered only as something done when far from home, away from your fëa-mate, and not talked about afterwards, solace, perhaps. 

We changed, though. My son helped us change how we thought of such differences.

But at the time when I learned of it, when I had the absolute proof placed in front of me, once I had got over the initial shock, I had surprised myself.

I surprised myself as I realised, I did not care. 

As far as the kingdom was concerned, it did not seem to matter, at the time. My oldest son was finally about to make a marriage (having elsewhere already proved himself capable of providing all the heirs my kingdom could ever want, or need, much to my occasional embarrassment and frequent annoyance), and one day, I was sure my second son, Tharmeduil, he who reminded me so of my poor, dead not-wife, would find an elleth he could settled down with. So the fact that my youngest, most beloved son, was unlikely to present me with grandchildren was unimportant. What mattered was that he find his own happiness, if he could.

It seemed no sooner than he found someone that tragedy struck elsewhere in my family and within a space of a few brief months, all changed and instead of what should have been a joyous betrothal of two noble lines, I lost both my oldest son and my second, the one in whom his mother walked in memory. 

Oh, they did not die – but still, I lost them. Both were ill, incapacitated, and both must either sail, or fade and die. And I did not think I could bear to watch them die, or fade, so with a heavy heart I decided to send them west, over the Sundering Seas to Valinor.

The only comfort I had in that sombre time was that my golden child and his lover prospered in spite of everything, of all the challenges they faced, we faced, the kingdom faced.

Dwarves had lately come to Erebor, and, of course, delved deep and found riches, and so a dragon came also. And in spite of all the insult we had suffered at their hands, in spite of all their hauteur, still, they expected me to help them? Their dragon ravaged my forest, and they would have put a claim on me for aid? It was all I could do to protect my own, and so I turned my face from them to succour my Silvans. 

That was not the end, of course; more dwarves came, skulking through my forests, disturbing my people… a stay in my dungeons was no less than they deserved. In the finish, I let them go. They thought it was an escape, but, really, I had no wish to keep them, to continue wasting resources on them… not even my own son and his lover, by then the commander of my Dragon Guard, ever knew…

And again, the dragon was disturbed and this time I had to lead my people to war. We gave aid, freely, to the people of Lake Town, whose homes had burned when the dragon came, in memory of... of... I cannot now remember of whom... and all was done, and sorted, we thought, except for the shadow on my borders…

A trying time, that. I feared so for my one remaining son, but he endured, his lover endured, and came the War of the Ring and my beloved golden child setting off on the quest, a leaf blown by the winds of fate far from the trees that nurtured him.

Indeed, I had not expected him to be so long gone; we all thought he was simply delivering a message, and did not need to do that, even, but did so to prove a point...Govon, finally I remembered the name of his lover, his fëa-mate, husband, Govon had ridden with him to Imladris and returned, distraught, with the news that my son had been chosen to join in the vain hope and that he had not been able to stop him. 

I would cheerfully have committed another kinslaying then, had Elrond been within reach. The Lord of Imladris had two sons of his own, many knights around him – Glorfindel I knew would not have avoided the mission. Instead, Govon returned with a pompous letter in his saddlebags and distress in his eyes as he told me what had passed.

It was a hard time, waiting for news, but we had it hard, too. Three times we were attacked, and three times repelled the invading orcs. I rode out to battle and although we lost many warriors, Captain Govon kept the Sacred Grove, the heart of the forest safe, and I kept him safe, so when my son came home, he would have someone waiting.

I had not expected Legolas to bring a Dwarf back with him, and neither had poor Govon, whose dismay could not have been worse if Legolas had been unfaithful to him. That they weathered this, too, was testament to the great love between my son and his Govon, and if I had any doubts remaining as to the reality and depth of love possible between two ellyn, this ended them.

Of course, when Legolas suggested sailing, and taking the dwarf with him, Govon could not be expected to take the news happily... 

To my regret, although I remembered that sailing had been mentioned, I could not bring to mind what the outcome had been. I know my son had returned from the War of the Ring suffering extreme thalassophilia, the sea longing that can break the heart and bend the will of the strongest elf, I know he intended to make a colony in Ithilien, to beautify the place again and to lead Silvans there to live, attempting to throw off the sickness with work and service, but I also knew the threat or promise of the Havens would always be there, just a float away down the great Anduin. And over time I grew to accept that my son, my glorious, golden child, would sail.

Indeed, a part of me was convinced he had sailed long ago.

Well, he would be with his brothers, at least.

I hoped Govon was with him, wherever that might be.

That had been when I began to lose track, I think, once I had agreed the changes in my borders and retreated to the north, to my new Eryn Lasgalen, my Greenwood reborn. I cared for my Silvans, of course, I always cared for them… but once Legolas and Govon had been settled in Ithilien long enough for their human friends to age and die, then came the first real gap in my memories.

I tried, I really did try to remember...

By the onset of my next clear memory, the dating system had changed. We no longer talked of the Fourth Age; instead, it was in the year of our lord... in the year of their lord 793, there were fiery dragons in the skies, and I rose up to fight them; I remember their fall. Modern history tells these were portents, harbingers of the Norsemen who would come and raid and settle, signs in the sky, comets... but all I can say is, they looked like dragons, they flamed like dragons (and who would know better than I?) and they died like dragons die, also, decapitated or shot through the heart, slain whilst slaying...

Again, I had lost track… and the length of the next gap startled me, when I remembered the system of counting of years… I fought in wars and battles, but not the ones done in the name of religion. Only when people were in need, were oppressed and suffering… I stayed close to the forest, to a forest, anyway… they called it the Greenwood, but it was not my Greenwood the Great, my Eryn Lasgalen, after… I do not know. More gaps. So many gaps, so much blank time that I wondered – had I, perhaps, started to give up, to fade, were these blanks in my memory a result of that, of the lethargy that precedes the fading? But each time, I had seemed to find something to lock onto again and bring me back… I thought again of Bold Hart, of finding his antlers…

No. Seeking for them, where I knew they would be… so unearthing them, retrieving them, having them set…

Yes. I remembered now, it was not some random hunter who had set the antlers on their plaque, it had been I… when I came into the means to do so… I had made a trophy of my beloved Bold Hart’s antlers, to keep with me, a memory…

I drew in my breath sharply as I remembered...

In the antlers I had made a place for my treasures, those things I have always had to have with me… 

Carefully, I carried the antlers out into the open, and began to examine them. The right one twisted on its base, screwed in, and so with care I was able to unscrew it. Beneath was an entry into the plaque, not a solid base, but revealing a secret space and within, a tube of fabric the length of my hand and the width of two of my fingers, and inside…

An odd, eclectic collection. A key with a label attached. A twist of plait, made of hair and leather and bowstring, just a snatch of it, half a finger-length… grey and black and red plates, none wider than my thumb, shaped like rounded off triangles… dragon scales… a few small coins, gold, I thought. 

And a starlight gemstone jewel.

A bright, clear diamond glittering and winking and blinding me as I remembered its significance, and I all but wept, seeing it, the memory stone I had made when my beloved died. Over the space of a week or so after her loss, I had whispered my memories of her to the stone, my sons added their voices, her friends, her kin… all those who had held her in their hearts came and whispered to the glittering heart of the diamond, a repository for all those things that mattered… 

And perhaps there were gaps in my memory, but that no longer mattered, not now, For now I filled myself up with recollections of my beloved consort, and perhaps I did weep, and perhaps I laughed, but I sat for long hours there, talking to the jewel, listening to its memories, remembering who she had been, who I had been. Who I still was.

Who I always was: the Elvenking, Thranduil Oropherion.

Who I would always be.


	3. Unlocking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil talks to Lily once more...

A strange, intermittent sound interrupted my thoughts, and I realised I had been sitting, holding the jewel, for so long that my fingers had cramped. The sound was continuous, a double shrill, a ring-ring, and I knew it came from the device – the telephone – on the wall inside the doorway. I had heard it before, when the tours came round, and the guide would walk to it, lift it and speak, pausing in between. And I knew, from the items in Shelf Twelve, Aisle Four, that telephones had been invented in the year of their lord 1876 as a way of distance-speaking. No doubt the lady Galadriel would have been horrified, if she were still here.

But what I didn’t know was why it was making that infernal noise now, when there was no-one here except me.  
I rose from my place and went towards the telephone, intending to try to silence it. But, of course, by the time I had almost reached it, the thing fell silent.

Good.

But if that was going to happen often, I had better brush up on my understanding of the device.

To my regret, there were not that many books in the warehouse – most donated old books went to libraries, I understood, but there were some which I had tried to gather them together for my own use. Nobody else wanted them, after all, and if anyone came looking, I could always return them to their proper places on the shelves.

So now I went to my most useful volume, a book from the 1950s, entitled ‘The Curious Boys’ Book of How Things Work’, though I did not know why boys were curious and girls were not; in my, albeit limited experience, the female of the species has always seemed more full of questions than the male.

The entry on telephones was much as I remembered – their invention and development and use. And, of course, it was out of date.  
Just how much out of date I did not quite know for certain. I thought I remembered one of the tour guides saying this place opened in 2008 – presumably the year of their lord, once more – which would mean more than fifty years had passed since my main source of information was published; a half of a wink of an eye to an elf, but half of a lifetime in human terms…

The telephone rang again and, my understanding of its usage refreshed, I decided that, as I now knew how to answer it, I perhaps should do so. I lifted the top part – the handset – and put it close to my face.

‘Yes?’

Although I was expecting to hear a voice, I was still startled… the volume, the… the difference in its mechanical tones from that of real voices, so I jumped a little, even as I thought I recognised it.

‘Is that Professor King?’

‘Lily. Yes, it is I, Thranduil.’

‘I wanted to make sure this was the right number for you… were we going to have lunch?’

Had that been arranged for today?

‘I seem to have lost track of time…’

‘Oh, that’s all right, we didn’t have anything planned, not really…’

But I heard disappointment even in her mechanical tones and, besides, I was eager for more information.

‘No, I would like to.’ I wondered if the coins I had retrieved from Bold Hart’s mounting plaque would be adequate… ‘Where shall we meet?’

‘Well, you’re on the way from my office to the canteen, anyway… I’ll come down.’

I went to reassemble the antlers, pocketing the key and several of the coins, putting everything else back into its hiding place. As I replaced the starlight jewel, I wondered if I had simply become so lost in my memories that I had not noticed the passing of time, that an entire day and night had slipped by. It was such a short space of time, anyway, and in here, with no windows to show the passage of day to night, it was entirely possible, if a little worrying. 

When I had been the Elvenking, I had not been used to losing track, however quickly time spilled through my fingers.

Of course, I was no longer the Elvenking, and I did not even know how long it was since I had been.

A tapping at the glass of the outer door, and I went to open it. Lily Dunbar smiled at me, and I smiled back.

‘Thank you again for your generosity yesterday,’ I began, and realised I would need an excuse for still being without currency. ‘I still have not found my wallet…’

‘Oh. Don’t worry…’ She stopped talking and frowned, her head tilting to one side as if she were thinking. ‘Yesterday? It was last week…’

She smiled and shook her head now.

‘When I was younger... a lot younger... I used to wake up on Mondays and remember nothing after being in the pub on Friday nights, but no longer, I’m afraid! Well, never mind.’

I felt her eyes on my face, curious, although I hadn’t fully understood her. How strange the language had become, where every word was clear and every meaning obscure.

‘I have this,’ I said. ‘I thought, you could take it in exchange for lunch.’

I held out a coin to her and heard her gasp.

‘Yes, I’m pretty sure that would pay for your lunch for the rest of the year, if not longer!’ she said with a laugh. ‘What is it, a sovereign?’

‘Half-sovereign,’ I corrected automatically, surprising myself, for I had not known I knew. ‘I inherited a handful of them…’

‘Well, there’s no need… really, it’s fine. What will you have?’

We had arrived at the outskirts of the canteen now, and joined the line of people waiting for service. Someone walked past with a tray, and their cup wafted off an enticing odour… my keen eyes saw the wording on the receipt. ‘Americano I think, today.’ Someone else went passed, their food smelling appealingly hot. ‘Jacket potato and cheese. Again, my thanks.’

I tried to eat slowly, but the aromas were enticing and such hunger as I felt… Lily’s mouth twitched as if she were amused as she watched me eat, although I noted she had a very healthy appetite of her own.

‘Forgive me,’ I said. ‘It seems I am rather hungry today.’

‘I’ll say!’ she agreed with a laugh. ‘In fact, it looks as if you haven’t eaten since I last saw you!’

I tried not to give anything away, but her eyes widened and she leaned forward involuntarily.

‘What? Really?’

‘I sometimes… forget,’ I said.

She sat back in a hurry and eyed me curiously, and I discovered I was going to have to find a reason for my unconventional behaviour; I realised it could be a problem, knowing so little of the modern world; it would be difficult to know how to deceive her effectively, particularly as she seemed to be a nice woman, helpful and generous and kind.

‘Have you… have you been ill?’ she asked gently. ‘I – well, I said last week, I don’t want to pry, but you look so pale…’

Yes. It was true that I knew little of the modern world. But one thing I did know – give an intelligent female a hint, a glimpse, a few words, and she is more than capable of making up her own stories. 

And, since I also knew that the very best way to deceive effectively was to keep as close to the facts as possible, I gave just a little, a very little of the truth.

‘I have… blanks in my memory. When you called, I had no idea how much time had passed.’

She shifted in her seat slightly, her face serious, resolved.

‘Have you seen a doctor about this?’ she asked.

‘I do not think so…’ I told her.

‘And do you know why it happens, have you been through anything upsetting…?’ She was shaking her head in that odd fashion that is not meant to signify a negative but to signify incomprehension, somehow encourage one to explain.

‘I think it is fair to say that, yes, I have endured trauma in my past,’ I confessed, my voice dry. ‘But really, do not trouble yourself about this. I am perfectly fine.’

‘If you’re losing days at a time and forgetting to eat, you’re really not,’ she said gently. ‘Oh, dear…’

Our plates and cups were empty. She rose from the table and went to the counter, returning with more drinks and some cake, as if that would help solve my apparent health issues. Oddly enough, I did feel better after it.

‘Where do you live?’ Lily asked. ‘So much for not prying, Thranduil! But… I mean, is there anyone at home to help you with things?’

I shook my head.

‘Is that no, there isn’t anyone, or… You don’t know where you live? What have you been doing? Is it that… could it be that sometimes you do know, and others you forget so much it’s blanked completely?’

‘I think I have been here,’ I told her. ‘I don’t remember anywhere except the storage room, and the canteen. Not for a very long time.’

‘But…’ She shook her head, exasperated. ‘Well why has no-one noticed? Security or someone? And… it’s cold in that store, what do you do, bed down on the Victorian chaise with some of the old clothes as blankets and that zebra staring at you?’

‘I doubt it.’

She took a deep breath, huffed it out, and thought for a moment.

‘Well, Personnel will have your details, you’ll be on the system somewhere.’

‘Will I?’ 

‘Well, yes. You have to be, if you’ve been working here from the beginning. That’s seven years, a long time to be overlooked…’

‘Yes, you see, I do not think I actually work here… not in the sense that I am employed, that is. I simply am…’

She shook her head again, this time despairingly.

‘I don’t know, I don’t know what to do to help you! If you don’t work here, then you shouldn’t be here, and you certainly shouldn’t be showing swords to children!’

‘Lily,’ I said, in a voice that of old had made the most hardened of warriors quail, ‘I do not need your assistance. I am quite capable of managing my own affairs.’

‘Let me see, you don’t even have the money to buy your own lunch, you’ve apparently been sleeping in a warehouse for the last seven years, you don’t know what’s up with yourself or where you live or anything! Yes, I’d say that shows you’ve got everything under control!’

I found myself unable to prevent a quirk of the lips that gave away how amused I was by her defiant sarcasm.

‘Thank you again for lunch, twice, and for cake. I am most grateful. Good day, Lily.’

I got to my feet and walked away, feeling her staring after me, but continuing on anyway. I needed the solitude of the warehouse around me, suddenly, I needed to think.


	4. Cover Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil uncovers a little more about his past...

As I retreated to the sanctuary of the warehouse, I began to regret stepping out of the shadows my existence had become. Had I not felt sorry for Lily Dunbar, trying to cope with an orc-troop of children, I would never have done so, and I would have remained in my twilight peace with nothing to bother me.

Or would I?

Lily’s assumption that I had been ill came back to me, so that instead of returning to the comfort of Bold Hart’s antlers, I made myself go to the mesh racks that stored items usually wall-hung… I pulled out one that had ornate looking-glasses on.

I could tell you from the labels that they were a selection of Georgian, Regency and Victorian mirrors, representing different manufacturing techniques and a variety of styles, but the fact was that they were simply objects which had always scared me. Oh, we had had looking-glasses in the old days, but there was something about these, so sharp, so harsh their reflections... Surely it was unnatural to be able to see one’s own self in such bleak detail?

But there I was, essentially unchanged. I am an elf, we do not much alter. Our sufferings can sometimes be writ on our faces, or on our bodies or in our eyes, but we do not fall ill, we do not generally look as if we are ill.

Except that, somehow, I did.

My long hair, that strange light shade between blonde and white, looked as ever it did. But there was a gauntness to my face, and my eyes had a haunted cast. Always slender, after the way of my people, instead, I looked thin, wasted… well, if I had only eaten twice since the opening of this place, it was hardly any wonder… we could go long tracks of time on little or no food, I and my kind, but we still need sustenance eventually.

So I looked in my own reflected eyes, blue and silver beneath the striking dark brows, and I noted the bones of my face lying barely beneath my skin, and 

I wondered whether I had really been on the point of fading, of becoming a ghost. Of haunting myself.

This would not do. I was awake again, and aware, and I had eaten, and conversed with a human. I was not fading now, I was not going anywhere, not now, not ever.

Not yet.

I stood back and looked down at my form. Yes, I was too thin for my height, and for raiment it appeared I had resorted to a selection of the donated clothing, topping it all with one of the knee-length garments worn by the tour guides or occasional workers in the store – a stack coat, they called it. I was glad I had been wearing such when Lily had seen me, for I doubt my day clothes beneath were quite proper… something known as a ‘demob suit’, a heavy garment of jacket and waistcoat and trousers, and I had found a loose shirt from somewhere for under it. The entirety, covered with the stack coat, gave me a certain stature, but when one looked closely, as Lily apparently had, it looked more that the suit was wearing me…

I began to regret walking away from the woman. Given that I had just confessed to having no right to be here, I should perhaps have been more conciliating, but that has never been my way.

I sighed. This place had become a sort of home, I supposed. And if I had to leave, what of Bold Hart?

The thought reminded me of the key in my pocket, and I took it out and looked at the label. To my surprise, it was written in a rounded, soft script I knew so well that it was like looking at an old friend, seeing it, tengwar letters, elvish script.

‘Aisle Nine, inner shelf, bottom row, behind the writing engine.’

And so I went to Aisle Nine, looked on the innermost shelf where I saw the writing engine – in fact, a typewriter. And, behind it, I discovered a small leather case with brass corners. It looked old, but not ancient, and bore none of the identifying tags of the warehouse systems, so I knew it was not an artefact, not a part of their collections. 

It opened stiffly to my key, and when the first thing I saw was a document in tengwar with the name Thranduil Oropherion at the top, I knew it was meant for me.

Carrying the case out into the open area of the warehouse, I sat myself down on the chaise near the zebra and began examining the contents. There was an apparently random selection of things; papers, two or three more keys, a folding leather pouch with more coins and cards and paper – a wallet – and, of all things, a pack of lembas.

I wondered how it could be possible. Lembas had a long keeping time, true, but it would not last for millennia… who could have made it? And how long had it been in here, anyway?

Well, I was currently sated with food, so it was not important now. 

There were bells.

Silver bells, tarnished and misshapen, they no longer jingled or jangled. But they sang to me nevertheless. Nelleron, greatest, bravest of my riding elks was the first to wear them. He had charged a dragon, once, and the dragon lost. The bells had been a gift on a decorative crocheted cover for Nelleron’s antlers; how I had hated it! But my elk would not let any remove it, he enjoyed the bells… and with the bells I found grey slate dragon scales, from the one he trapped in his antlers, holding the head so my eager sword could remove it from the grey wyrm’s neck. All my elks following had bells on their harness after that; it amused me that such a gentle, happy sound could make the enemy cower and shriek with fear, knowing who was coming for them.

So long ago… the incident with that particular dragon had been in the Third Age, when the world was young. That had been the same day my oldest son took seriously ill, the day my youngest feared his lover lost.

But Govon had been injured, not dead, and it was important to remember that I, too, was still alive.

I wished I knew what had become of my son.

I took up the first document, unfolding it with care. The paper was thin, brittle, like flaking paint, but the words were clear.

‘You have forgotten before,’ it began. ‘And you will forget again, most likely. You will remember you are Thranduil, you will remember your beginnings, your home in the Greenwood, your family. You will never forget your family. But the in-between things, the events that happen amongst humans only, those are hard to hold on to. Each time you become aware, you write a note for yourself for next time, with the important things. Through the centuries you have changed your name and your residence and your occupation. But you are always Thranduil, whether Oropherion or Green or Wood or McLachlan.’

And now, I was Professor King. I wonder how many other names I had taken.

‘It is Anno Domini 1913. War is coming. It is not the sort of battle we have ever seen, and they say all who can fight will be called upon... unless I flee, I fear I will be required to go to war, and it does not look like the sort of battle in which I would be of much use. So I am going into a monastery where I may live in silence for a time.’

A monastery… I had no recollection, but I had read of those. Yes, a silent order would be no hardship for me. Nor would hard physical labour, cold, meagre food… as has been seen, I can endure much. It would be a deception, of course; the deity believed in here… is it the same as my own Eru Ilúvatar? Who can say, who can know? Certain is it, that these angels that humans set such store in have much in common with the Valar and the Maiar of my own knowledge.

Did they still have monasteries, I wondered?

I turned to the next document: 1947.

‘You will have forgotten again. I did,’ it began. ‘I thought we had just seen the end of the war… and learned there had been an end, and that this was a new one. This time, I could not shelter in a monastery. They taught me to fly and put me in the air in a vehicle. It was exhilarating. But I did not like shooting at the other planes, it did not seem fair. I did not like the prisoner-of-war camp, much, either, but I am here again, now. I find there is a bank account and it has my name on it. I find I have money. And a house. What do I want with a house?

Another:

‘1968. This is a more accommodating time. My long hair does not attract the wrong sort of attention, these days, and the clothing is more free for some sections of society. I even sailed West… it is not what I expected, it is not the true West, not the Straight Way, but a curved way and so I got to a place known as America and to that part called California. I was able to live in trees again, on a commune. It was refreshing. But I deemed it time to return, before I forgot myself. There is still a house and a bank account.’

I tried to remember. If these were my notes – and it was my language, my hand – why could I not remember?

‘You will forget,’ the words continued. ‘I have tried to recall, but there is nothing much after the dragon, not really. I think I remember the monastery… it may be, there were drugs and they tested some on me… perhaps they did not suit my constitution. There are things you can say, to allay their fear and suspicion… you were in a car crash and lost your memory. Or in a war, and were… shell shocked, or they may call it something else now. Or in a coma and lost track of time. Or mentally ill, but people may be wary if you claim that. I must admit I am looking forward to forgetting again; I thought I saw Canadion, do you remember him? At a place called York. I did not get too close. But I did not see Thiriston, who surely would have been nearby, and when I looked again, I thought perhaps it was only a woman in a dress, after all.’

There was one more, very short, note.

‘1977. I had forgot. I want to forget again. I do not like being here. The house is empty and nobody sees me. They think I am dead, but the documents hold the house forever. If you remember again, go to Adrian’s. If you do not fade soon... that is, I think I will fade soon. At least I can see trees.’

Was that me? Did I, Thranduil Oropherion, write all that?

I read and reread and found a writing implement, and some paper in the case, and I wrote:

‘I had forgot. I do not know when I am, not precisely. I am in a storage place, it has been open since 2008, but I do not know when that was... seven years after, I think, perhaps. I have been losing track. One of the women here sees me. There are keys, but I have not found out for what. I have not seen the house mentioned here. I miss my son.’

Committing that last sentence to paper made me gasp as the pain of the realisation settled on my fëa. Putting my writing aside, I went through the rest of the case in an attempt to throw off my sudden sadness. There were documents, deeds to something, those keys, an address. I thought about what I had read… it seemed I could claim forgetfulness – amnesia - and it would probably be accepted. But I felt better, obscurely comforted to know I had been keeping track, somehow, however intermittently, down the years.

I only wished that I had mentioned my son in those previous writings.

In a pocket in the case was an envelope, sealed with wax. It had a name on it; H J Adrian, Solicitors and Law. Perhaps they would be a good place to start, if I could find out where they were and how to get to them.

I closed up the case, keeping out the little bunch of keys. It had a label, two short, random alphanumeric sequences written there, and the subsequent keys all had numbers.

Yet another mystery.

I closed up the case again and found myself wishing there had been, perhaps, some clothing in it, a comb. I wondered and pondered and thought about everything except the matters that were really bothering me: At one point, I had thought I had seen a former subject, Canadion. And at another, I had been very close to despair.

The phone at the end of the room gave its imperious shrill. To distract myself, I went to lift its receiver.

Before I could speak, a voice.

‘Are you all right?’

‘Lily.’ Of course, it was Lily.

‘You walked off as if I’d upset you, and I really didn’t mean… so. Are you all right, Thranduil?’

‘I… think so. I have… found my wallet.’

She was silent for a moment.

‘Canteen’s closed now, it’s half four. I’m just finishing for the day. Are you staying here all night?’

‘Of course.’

She sighed.

‘No, you’re not. You’re coming home with me. I’ll be down in a minute.’


	5. Out of Circulation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil accepts Lily's offer of hospitality...

I did not wish to go home with Lily. It was one thing to leave the warehouse, to explore a different part of the same building, but to leave it entirely and venture forth into the world?

It should have helped that I had a documented record of my previous journeys, that I knew I had travelled apparently great distances, but somehow, it did not. Everything beyond the building would be as if it were new to me, fresh, possibly frightening, and one thing I had gathered from my reading was that swords were not worn in public these days, so I would be effectively unarmed in strange territory, with only Lily as my guide and guardian.

There came a tapping at the window in the door, and there was Lily beyond it. Somehow, the fact that she knocked helped settle me; after all, she knew how to get in. But knocking made it seem that she was respecting my territory, and I reminded myself who I was – who I had been – and opened the door.

She looked as if she was about to speak, but shook her head instead.

‘What, Lily?’ I asked.

‘No,’ she told me. ‘I was going to say, are you really going to walk round dressed like that? But then I realised, it’s probably all you’ve got with you.   
Perhaps lose the stack coat, though.’

‘Lose…?’

‘Take it off and leave it in the store.’

‘Ah.’ 

I complied, and she shook her head again.

‘Oh, dear! Well, at least it isn’t far to my place... and it is dark outside…’

I didn’t really gather the significance. Lily herself was bundled up in an overwhelming white coat which did nothing for her except keep her warm and, possibly, stop males from finding her attractive, but I said nothing as I followed her through the building and out through its glass and steel entrances.

‘Car’s having its service today, so we’re on foot, I’m afraid,’ she said, as we descended a few steps and walked across an expanse of artificial ground… a car park, I gathered, from the signs. ‘Should have it back in a day or so. But one of the things I like about this job is it’s really near where I live…up here, turn right at the end.’

Knowledge was coming back to me, flooding in, swamping me with the speed at which it filled my mind. Pavements, street lights, tarmac. Traffic, buildings… I recognised them all, now, but still I stared around me at how dark the sky, how bright the street lamps, how noisy and swift the cars. We made the turn of which she had warned me, and a little further on, turned left and crossed the road, having to wait first for the traffic to cease. I wondered why the cars would not simply stop for us, but apparently, no. Something more to find out about, or to wait for the knowledge to return.

We walked on up a hill, over a bridge – beneath, the water was dark, and its banks even.

‘That’s the Leeds-Liverpool Canal, there,’ Lily told me. ‘They’ve done a lot of work along here lately, regeneration. Flats and shops by the armouries, but of course, with the recession…’

‘Armouries?’ I queried. Who would be keeping weapons near to shops? Would not the shopkeepers object? Whose weapons would they be?

Lily sighed.

‘Sorry – I assumed you’d know… another gap?’

‘More of a void than a mere gap, I fear.’

‘The Royal Armouries. It’s a museum, specialising in the history of weapons and armour. Interesting, if you like that sort of thing… they’ve just put in a requisition for some of our stuff… you know the swords you were demonstrating the other day?’

‘Yes?’

‘Those, or ones like them. They’ve got a new exhibit planned.’

‘So… when the tour guides talk about the warehouse storing things for other museums… this is what it means?’

‘Well, yes, what else would it mean…? Oh, never mind. Careful here, this is a tricky corner, traffic comes at you from all ways.’

But we managed, and continued walking, past a large gloomy stone building – a church, apparently, and on up a dark and rather dismal street. There were houses only on one side, looking across the road to some green space, which was somewhat of a relief to my sensibilities. I did not like how tightly the streets by the church had been packed, how close the houses, sharing walls with each other. It seemed odd to me.

‘Here we are.’

There was a low gate, a small garden, and steps leading to a door in a very narrow house. Lily unlocked and opened the door, entering and inviting me in. I followed, and she switched on lights and began that little bustle people always do when they invite you inside for the first time, showing they own everything while trying to make you feel welcome.

‘Oh, it’s a bit chilly in here,’ she said, closing curtains and turning a dial on a piece of equipment in the middle of the wall of the room. A few clicks, a whumph, a hiss and blue flames danced through coal. ‘There, soon, warm up.’

She saw me staring and laughed.

‘It’s not witchcraft,’ she said. ‘It’s a gas fire. Sit down, get comfy.’

‘Forgive me, Lily. I am sure I must seem rather odd to you…’

‘Well, perhaps.’ She shrugged. ‘But I never could pass up a hard-luck story. I’ll get the kettle on.’

I took a seat near to the fire and allowed myself the luxury of its warmth, looking around me as I did so. The room was square, and felt small after the expanse of the warehouse. Chairs flanked the fire and alcoves held bookshelves stocked with tomes. The large windows were now curtained against the night, enclosing the room. A doorway led to where Lily was putting the kettle on, and there was a door in the far corner of the room, accessed by two rising steps. And that was all.

Lily must have noticed my interest, for when she set down a tray on a small table, she glanced around the room herself as if trying to work out what she needed to explain.

‘It’s a back-to-back,’ she said. ‘Which means that as well as houses either side, there’s a row behind as well. Beyond that wall…’ she nodded to the back wall of the room, ‘is someone else’s sitting room. There are two floors above, though, and a cellar, so lots of space. Just oddly laid out. Still, it suits me, I like it. Where did you used to live?’

In a cave in a forest. But how would Lily react if I said that to her?

‘I had a suite of rooms in a large building,’ I said instead, trying to fit the reality of Mirkwood’s Great Cave Palace Complex into modern terms. ‘It was a little draughty.’

‘That’s the thing with big houses, nowhere near as snug as normal homes. I made tea,’ Lily said. ‘I hope that’s all right?’

I really didn’t know.

‘Thank you,’ I said, accepting the cup. 

The drink was passable, but Lily noticed from the way I drank that perhaps it wasn’t a huge success.

‘Oh, of course, you had coffee at lunch, didn’t you? Sorry. I forgot.’

‘No – I’m very grateful. Why should you remember such things?’

She said no more, but looked me over in a way that was slightly alarming, until I realised it was mostly the suit she was focussing on.

‘It’s no good, we’re going to have to find you some decent clothes – that suit’s engulfing you! And your boots look like they’re falling apart…’

My boots. Something else came back to me as she mentioned them. Yes, I was not entirely unwilling to wear cast-aside clothing, but when it came to my footwear I was more particular. And it was true; the boots were rather worn, although clean enough. The last letter in the bundle had been dated 1977, so was it possible my boots predated that? Or had I been awake at some other point and just not written anything down?

‘…some of Robbie’s clothes might fit; you’re quite slim, really. Or I think there are a few things of Brendan’s, my ex’s left…’

‘Please, don’t trouble…’

‘Or we could get you some new ones. It wouldn’t be until tomorrow, but the centre’s not far from Crown Point, there’s a Marks’, and George, and Next and… No, M & S, I think. Lunch hour, maybe… Well, you said you’d found your wallet…’

‘Yes.’ I lifted my case onto my lap and opened it, looking within for the wallet. ‘Is any of this any good?’

She looked at the currency inside and laughed.

‘Oh, where have you been, Thranduil? Twenty or thirty years ago, maybe… but not now. Still, I suppose the banks might change some of it. Or a specialist coin-collector – there are a couple in town, you could try there.’

It seemed foolish to me to have a currency and then change it – what was one supposed to do? But then, humans are so brief, perhaps it matters less to them. Still, gold endures, and always has a value, while paper – these large, white sheets of curlicued decoration and the words Five Pounds on them – they seemed worthless, now.

‘No, no!’ she said quickly as I voiced the latter part of my thought. ‘You’ll be bound to get something for them!’

‘It hardly helps with the present situation, however.’

‘Well, look at it this way; what do you need for now that you haven’t got? You’ve a place to stay, a bed for the night…’

Had I? I had not realised Lily intended to offer me her hospitality...

‘Anything else can keep for tomorrow,’ she finished. ‘So… have you anything else of interest in there?’

‘Would you like to see?’

I placed the case on the little table (coffee table, although why, when she had made tea, it was not a tea table…?) and she sat on the sofa which was behind the table, and so we could both see the contents together. I laid them out, keeping back the tengwar documents.

‘Keys…’

‘But to what?’ I asked.

‘Well, this is a post code… we can look it up in a minute… what’s this?’ She looked at the sealed envelope. ‘It’s a bit weighty. I’ve heard of H J Adrian, they go back a long way… Wow… How interesting! We could ring them tomorrow…’

‘We could. But for what reason?’

‘Well, it’s got their name on. Maybe they’ll know something. Of course, you could just open it.’

‘I could.’

‘But then, you haven’t yet, so presumably you don’t want to.’

‘It has not my name on.’

‘True.’ She got to her feet. ‘I’ll get supper on. Frozen pizza do you? It’s quick and, really, I don’t feel much like cooking tonight, not with all the excitement… do you like pizza? Do you even know?’

She said it with a smile and so I smiled back.

‘I’m sure it will be fine. Thank you.’

‘Will you stop saying that?’

‘Perhaps. When you cease to deserve my thanks.’

‘You know, you’re pretty much together, really, for someone who’s been ill,’ her voice said from the kitchen. ‘You sort of remind me of those white fivers a bit. In pretty good nick, really. Just… out of circulation for a while.’


	6. Guest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil stays at Lily's...

After pizza, Lily took me up to the bed she had promised me. It was housed in a long room at the top of the house which had an assortment of furnishings; wardrobe, drawers, odd pictures on the walls.

‘Robbie’s room, this was,’ she told me. ‘Everything’s been washed, of course. Towels in here… you’ll want a shower, a bath, maybe?’

‘A…?’

She compressed her lips together as if not quite believing my incomprehension, and led the way back down one floor to a door set opposite the one that led to Robbie’s-room-that-was.

‘Bathroom. Toilet, sink, shower over the bath. Soap. Hot and cold water. Don’t scald yourself. I’ll look out some clothes for you and put them on Robbie’s – the guest bed.’

‘Thank you.’

I waited until she had done whatever she had intended and had returned down the other stairs to the sitting room before I ventured to close the door to the bathroom and make free with its fittings. One of them I was quite glad of – it was strange, but in the warehouse it was as if nothing affected my physical self, but now I had been out of it for a little while, I was starting to remember the other side of the food-and-drink-ingested equations; I was once more indebted to The Boys’ Book of How Things Work for an understanding of the principles of the ceramic equipment. 

The shower seemed simple enough and I found it refreshing, to stand beneath the splinters of water as they needled down. It was not unlike some of the fiercer rainstorms we sometimes had known in Eryn Lasgalen, and it put me in mind of an innovation created by one of our more forward-thinkers – a washing cascade, he had called it - but while that had been prey to the vagaries of near non-existent plumbing, this was steadily warm, and constant, and I could have lingered for much longer.

Instead, I dried myself on the towel provided and studiously ignored the looking glass until after I had returned to the guest room and dressed.  
It would be fair to say I did not really like the clothes provided, but they were better than the demob suit. Black trousers, of a stiff, hard fabric – jeans, I think – and a softer garment one pulled on over the head, leaving one vulnerable and exposed for a moment during dressing. It had short sleeves and was rather close-fitting for my liking. 

As I prepared to leave the guest room and re-join Lily, I caught sight of a colourful hanging sheet with numbers and columns, and recognised it as a calendar… June 2015, it said. June? But that was a summer month, and outside was dark and cold, autumnal if not utterly wintery.

Downstairs, Lily had made more drinks – I recognised the burnt smell of coffee and saw she had remembered how I had taken it in the canteen. While grateful that she had considered my preferences, I wondered whether I ought to be alarmed and such attention. Certainly, her eyes roamed me as if she, at least, approved my appearance.

‘You look better,’ she said. ‘Oh, I Googled that postcode for you.’

‘Indeed?’ I queried, not knowing what she could possibly mean.

‘Yes, look.’

There was a device on her lap, a folding piece of equipment with a layout of letters such as I had seen on the typewriters; I had seen a similar thing before, one of employees at the warehouse sometimes brought one in and worked at it while examining objects on the shelves. He had seemed to use it for the cataloguing system, but it appeared these things were gateways to far more.

Lily saw me staring at the device and not the screen and she sighed.

‘Have you never seen a laptop before?’

‘Possibly. But not to know what one is.’

‘It’s a…’ She broke off. ‘Really?’

‘I have forgotten, perhaps.’

‘And that’s going to be the answer to everything, isn’t it?’ she said with another sigh. ‘Well, come and see.’

She was seated on the sofa and so I was obliged to sit beside her so that I could look.

‘This is that postcode,’ she told me. ‘On the label with the keys, look, It’s Woodford Hall!’

On the screen was a large and imposing building set amidst a swathe of grass. Behind it, and far more interesting to my mind, was a stand of mature deciduous woodland.

‘How lovely,’ I said.

‘Yes, it’s hundreds of years old… King George stayed there… it’s all flats now, apparently. I wonder what bit of it your keys are for… and why…’

‘Flats?’

Even as I said it, I remembered. Flats, apartments… small places to live within a large one. Not unlike the Great Cave complex; had I not even referred to my former home as an apartment to Lily? Yes, I realised I knew what flats were. 

‘It seems a pity,’ I added, seeing something more was required of me. ‘A fine building such as that broken into smaller units.’

‘Well, yes. Sometimes it’s the only way these old places can survive. Oh, but how exciting! If you’ve got one of the flats…’

_The documents hold the house forever..._

The note I had written to myself in 1977 came back to me. Did it mean that this was my house?

‘We could go and take a look tomorrow, if you like. Assuming my car’s ready, I’m sure I can get the afternoon off. We could ring the law firm, too… and maybe go to one of those coin shops. Get you sorted out, shall we?’

‘It sounds like a plan, Lily,’ I said, not entirely sure I liked the sound of being sorted out.

The evening passed. Lily showed me the basics of the laptop, how one could type in practically anything and get a list of answers, some more relevant than others.

I did not dare begin to seek for the things I really wanted, needed to know, not even when Lily very kindly slid the laptop across to me and got to her feet.

‘You seem to have got the hang of the search function. I’ve got a bit of pottering around to do; take your time.’

There were so many things to discover that the time passed quite swiftly, and before I realised, Lily had finished her pottering, whatever that might signify, made more coffee, and then had settled in her chair once more.

‘I’m going to put the TV on, if that’s all right.’

‘Lily, it is your home. Do whatever you would usually do, I do not mind.’

I had seen TVs in the warehouse, and the Curious Boys’ Book had given me an insight into their purpose. But still, it was startling, at first, to see this box come to life with moving images and sounds, voices you could understand.

Lily watched something with animals in, and then a news programme came on. I listened to stories of the United Kingdom – which would indicate that was where we were, of the wider world, and then of much more local news, Leeds. Ah, therefore a location at last. And it was not June, but November; November 8th, in fact.

And I realised it was getting late.

I set the laptop carefully aside.

‘My thanks, Lily. It has been most interesting.’

‘Helped you remember, then?’ she said as she switched the device off and folded it away.

‘It certainly has filled in a few gaps. I should bid you good night.’

‘Oh. Yes. I’ll… if you’re not up, I’ll give you a knock in the morning. If you need anything…?’

‘I am sure I will be fine. But you are very kind.’

She watched me go as if she was hungry, and I wondered about the look in her eyes. She was lonely, I supposed, with her son away. And she was divorced, I had learned, from the Brendan she had mentioned earlier. I suppose, had I been inclined, a few gentle words and I would not have been sleeping alone in a narrow bed…

I went up to the long room and the narrow bed, shutting the doors after me.

*

Almost, I had been afraid to rest, to reverie, lest I became lost again. But I had transferred my starlight jewel into my present clothing, and so had a transitional object with me to anchor me to this plane. And, of course, Lily had seen me and knew I was here; I need not fear fading, not tonight.

Robbie had left a selection of books behind, and I wasted an hour or two on those. I heard Lily climb the stairs and retire for the night, I heard the house settle, and the street outside grow quiet. Setting aside the book I had been looking at (Navigation for Dummies) I went to look out of the large window. The roof of the room sloped but this window had been built straight out so that one could walk into the space and see across to left and right and forward. So many lights, splintering the land, outlining roads… how could one ever hope to see the stars?

Eventually, I lay down and rested, allowing my body to relax, and I began to realise how tired, how utterly weary I felt. It was odd that I had not noticed it before; perhaps, in the warehouse, I had been somehow protected from such feelings. Or perhaps I simply had not done anything to tire myself. I allowed myself a moment of regret that I had not tried searching on the laptop for my son, for the names of those close to me. I wondered what had become of them, my advisor Arveldir, my healers Gyril and Nestoril… ah, Ness! So much more than just a healer, so dear a friend… I hoped she was happy, wherever she was. I hoped she had managed to sail.

And so, lying on a narrow bed in a room at the top of a tall house, depended on the kindness of a woman who was, perhaps, foolish to trust me, I drifted my thoughts into reverie.

*

A tapping sound disturbed me, and I came back from walking the stars with a start. Still clad in the black jeans and t shirt from last night, I sat up hastily.

‘Yes?’

‘It’s Lily. Half seven, sorry if it’s early… Bathroom’s free…’

‘Thank you.’

Her footsteps retreated, and I found a cup of coffee left just outside my door. The kindness made me smile as I drank it. 

Making free of the facilities once more, finding a new shirt, this time a dark brown which suited my pallor rather better than black, I carried my cup downstairs.

‘I didn’t know what you’d want, but then I realised you probably don’t know either,’ Lily said with a smile. ‘So there’s toast. Tea in the pot, or I can make more coffee for you? We’ll need to leave twenty minutes – well, I will – if we’re not going to be late.’

‘Tea will be fine. My thanks.’ 

I took a chair at the little table in the window where we had sat to eat the pizza the previous night and where breakfast was now laid out. It was simple fare, not such as I remembered, where we would eat heartily at the first meal of the day. But there was enough, and even if some things were strange to me, honey and butter and hot, toasted bread, they were old friends.

The tea was better this morning, perhaps because I was getting used to eating and drinking once more, and Lily joined me at the table to drink a cup herself and chew thoughtfully on a piece of toast.

‘I’ve to ring the garage later,’ she said. ‘I’ll take the afternoon off anyway – Crispin will sort it for me – and depending what’s happening with the car… Well, we can go into Leeds, at least. Will you phone H J Adrian today?’

‘I will try…’

She gave me that look again, the one that said she didn’t believe anyone couldn’t know how to do that.

‘I’ll come down to your warehouse and help, if you like,’ she said. ‘Once I know about the car.’

Truth to tell, I didn’t really know how I felt about the idea of a car. The notion of folding oneself into a small metal box and travelling at great speeds, amongst other metal boxes all doing the same thing was slightly alarming, to say the least. And having observed their speed on the way back to Lily’s last night, I rather thought I would prefer to walk.

‘I haven’t got a coat for you, I’m afraid,’ she said. ‘You’ll just have to sling that jacket on again.’

I did as she suggested, deciding not to mention that I did not suffer from the cold, and we set off through the dim streets.

We arrived at the warehouse – I saw now that the building which housed it was called the Discovery Centre – and parted company outside my doorway.

‘I’ll phone down,’ Lily said.

‘Have a good morning,’ I told her, and pulled the door open.

Lily gaped.

‘How did you do that?’ she asked. ‘I didn’t see you put a code in.’

‘I didn’t,’ I said. ‘What code?’

‘1432,’ she said. ‘It opens the door.’

‘Well, it was already open, maybe.’

‘That’s not how it works... Never mind.’

I had expected it to feel like a homecoming, returning to my storage room. The first thing I did was make sure Bold Hart’s antlers were safe, and to stroke the points. But, oddly, now I had been away, I felt out of place here, as if I was no longer a part of it, no longer an exhibit, more of an anachronism than ever.

I wandered through, looking at the objects and comparing them with the modern equivalents I had recognised in Lily’s home. Plates and dishes were the same, phones were changed, but recognisable, TVs were different, clothes very much so… I had brought back the trousers and waistcoat of the demob suit, reunited them with the jacket and shook them out, making sure the pockets were all empty, and returned it to where I had found it. I wandered, and looked, and realised I was, if anything, bored. I wanted Lily to ring.

Instead, she came down, tapping on the door.

‘Lily.’

‘Garage says car will be ready after one,’ she told me. ‘So we can meet your solicitor any time after two, if that’s all right?’

‘Yes.’ 

I found the number for H J Adrian whence I had transferred it to the pocket of my jeans. Lily dialled for me and even began speaking.

‘Oh, hello. This is Lily Dunbar here. I have a Professor King wanting to make an appointment with one of your senior representatives… Thranduil King… Yes, yes, I’ll transfer you…’

She smiled and passed the phone across, holding in one of the buttons.

‘A Miss Mayton is finding out who’s free,’ she said. ‘Your turn.’

‘This is Thranduil King,’ I said.

‘Ah, Professor King, yes… I have a note on the files that says Mr Dean represents your family business… when would you like to come in?’

‘Today, after two pm.’

‘Two fifteen? The rest of Mr Dean’s afternoon will be kept free for you.’

‘Miss Mayton, my thanks. That will be fine.’


	7. Adrian's

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil visits Adrian's...

Mr Dean was old in human terms, and he looked at me with recognition and a startled, worried expression in his clouded blue eyes.

‘It’s Professor King this time, isn’t it? May I check, are you certain about the term of address? You do have an hereditary Lordship, you know...’

‘I have not given the matter much thought. Whatever is appropriate for the current political situation, I suppose...’

‘Then Professor King, Lord Thranduil it shall be... You know, it has always seemed striking that the family name is your first name in this case. However, welcome, Professor King. Or should I say, welcome back?’

‘Since I have no real memory to speak of…’

‘Almost forty years this time... Forgive me, the old trouble, yes?’

He did not wait for an answer, instead glancing at the sheaf of papers on his desk.

‘Well, let’s get the formalities under way, yes? You have something for me?’

I handed over the sealed envelope and he shook his head.

‘It really is quite remarkable, you know, how you never yet have brought this back with the seal broken.’

‘It is not addressed to me, Mr Dean.’

‘Quite. Yes, you said something similar last time... In presence of ourselves and your secretary..?’

‘My friend.’

‘Really? In presence of we witnesses, then… I open the seal…’

And it hardly looked worth the effort; a collection of documents. Dean looked through and nodded.

‘Yes, all correct.’ He looked up at Lily. ‘These are duplicates of documents I hold in my possession on behalf of Professor King. It is how we establish his identity and confirm his rights to the estate. You’ve done well, in spite of the recent down-turns, sir. The house, as you know, or as you knew… is now let as apartments and brings in a small income of some thirteen thousand a year, but it is an easy return for the upkeep. All but three of the lets are occupied, and we could fill those today if it were not for the clause…’

‘Which clause might that be?’

‘You – or, I should say, your antecedent – insisted on three lets being kept free for the use of any family members or friends we were able to track down.’

‘I see.’

Was it good that, at some time in the past, I had expected others of my kind to be found? Or bad, that none had been located? I did not know; I could not decide.

‘Well, we had better get on with the process… a photograph for our files, so that when the next incarnation of Thranduil Oropherion turns up, we can trace a likeness.’ He was careful not to look at my ears as he said this. ‘It must be said, sir, you have remarkably dominant characteristics.’

‘Thank you,’ I said.

‘If you will come with me, Miss Mayton will have coffee waiting when we return.’

He led the way to another room where I was photographed standing against a wall with numbers marked on it – to ascertain my height, I supposed – and presently we returned to the office where Lily had been served with tea and a coffee pot waited for Dean and I.

He pressed a button on his desk.

‘We’ll have Peters in now.’

The coffee was excellent, and while we drank, Dean filled the silence with random concepts and words.

‘We’ll send word to have the Rolls brought out. Your driver will be Seamus – I hope he will suit… Peters will access the tailoring for you… where are you staying?’

‘I am currently a guest at Ms Dunbar’s lodging house,’ I said, trying to find words that would make it proper.

‘I see. Hardly fitting, if I may… why do you not take one of the empty apartments in Woodford Hall?’

‘I will consider it. Much will depend on accessibility to my current place of employment.’

He stared.

‘Forgive me – but you? Employed?’

‘It’s more of a voluntary position,’ Lily put in for me, bridling. ‘Professor King is an expert on ancient weapons and many of the other artefacts at the Leeds Discovery Centre.’

‘Oh, I see… Right, while we wait for Peters, let me fill you in on your missing persons list…’

‘My…?’

Dean stifled a sigh.

‘Yes, there is a note on file that Thranduil Woods’ memory was impaired during drugs trials in the 1960s and the effects appeared to have genetic after effects… I do apologise… one of the previous Thranduils asked that we try to track various ancestors, friends, descendants of friends… this is where we are up to… The ones known as Erestor and Arveldir were located some fifteen years ago, working in the library at one of the local universities, and after an initial hesitation, accepted our help to furnish them with funds for a cruise to the United States, but they abandoned ship on a lifeboat and it was lost at sea, apparently…’

The names burdened me with sudden hope. Arveldir had been my senior advisor for millennia before he had retired to pursue his friendship – his much more than friendship – with Erestor of Imladris. If they had survived this long, only lately leaving, then what were the chances that others, too, had survived? It was good to hear they had escaped across the Straight Path, for, of course, that was the logical explanation for their disappearance; they would have been quite literally lost from the bounds of the round world once they crossed the Edge.

‘But they are almost the only ones we have found since the previous Thranduil’s day. No trace of Thiriston, or Canadion… although we thought we had found him in York, but it turned out to be a Canadian… Nestoril, no… Legolas… no… oh, but Govon… there was a Govon working at the Royal Armouries as an enactor eighteen months ago, but he didn’t seem to want to be helped…’

Govon...?

I gripped onto the arms of my chair, not quite knowing how to feel, hearing his name. I should have been glad he was still alive, but he had been Legolas’ fëa-mate, and if my son wasn’t mentioned, then did that mean he hadn’t survived? What had happened to Legolas, had he sailed, was he safe, somewhere, anywhere? Hope and fear can taste much the same when one has not had the flavour of either for a time.

‘...claimed it was a mistake, his name was Gavin, but he had the... dominant characteristics. That’s it, though,’ Dean finished. ‘Just the one possible.’

‘He did not accept your aid?’

‘No. He tried to say he didn’t know who I meant until I showed him a photograph. After that, he said any business Thranduil had with him, he needed to deal with the matter in person.’

‘I see.’ But Govon had always been cautious. ‘Well, thank you. That is something I can investigate, certainly.’

Came a knock at the door and a younger man with hair that looked somehow oily entered and bowed towards me.

‘My lord, good afternoon. If you would care to follow me, we have retrieved the required items…’

‘This is Peters,’ Dean said. ‘He will be taking over your account when I retire later this year, so it seems like an ideal time for a handover.’

‘Good. Mr Peters?’

‘Just Peters, sir. If you would be so good?’

‘And where am I going, precisely?’

‘This way, my lord.’

He led me to a dressing room. 

Apparently, they kept it for clients such as myself, who dropped out of society for one reason or another for various lengths of time. I decided it was perhaps best not to enquire what other reasons there might be for dropping out of view for decades at a time, nor what manner of establishment would facilitate such reintegration with no questions asked... presumably the same sort of old firm where money had its own integrity and which would turn a blind eye to elven genetic traits... 

However, clothes were kept on hand for any such persons, respectable or otherwise, it seemed, replaced and replenished every few years, when the items showed signs of age or the fashions changed.

‘Not that it happens for you, sir; your taste is always classic.’

I was left alone with a selection of garments, everything from small clothes to top coats, and took the opportunity to array myself suitably. The rest would be sent to Lily’s address in the interim, until such time as I acquired an address of my own.

Lily stared when I presented myself. There had been a dark blue suit and a fine white shirt amongst the clothing arrayed for my perusal, and I felt much more the part, now, impeccably dressed in garments which fitted my form; there were even boots of excellent supple leather which could have been – and probably had been – custom made for me.

‘You look so different,’ she said. 

‘An improvement on the demob suit, yes?’

Yes. Although I quite liked you in the tee.’

I lifted one eyebrow at her and she grinned, not at all daunted. Dean cleared his throat.

‘So, I have here your passport, bank book, credit and debit cards… all the papers you need, if you’ll just sign… excellent… and so we’re done. Oh, and there’s this.’

He paused to hand me a small velvet box. It looked old and when I opened it, I found a white metal ring inside, a strange design like crossing twigs with a huge pale gemstone in a milky blue shade. I remembered it, and slid it onto my forefinger with the ease of old familiarity. Dean watched as if I had passed some sort of test.

‘If you decide to leave the area, or the country, please let us know,’ he went on. ‘Your chauffeur will be outside by now; Peters can drive the car you arrived in…’

‘Oh, no, he bloody can’t!’ Lily protested. ‘That’s my car and it’s just come back from a service!’

‘Well. Arrange with him. You might like to see if any of the apartments are suitable, Professor; I am sure you would be happier in proper accommodation. Anything else, just ring.’

I inclined my head in thanks and Dean pressed a button on his desk. Presently, Peters arrived and bowed once more, but not quite so deeply.

‘Very well, Peters. You can take it from here.’

‘Thank you, sir. Professor, Miss… if you will follow me?’

‘It’s Mrs,’ Lily said. ‘Mrs Dunbar.’

‘I beg your pardon. What would you like to do next, sir?’

I glanced across at Lily under lowered eyelids. There was something about her that felt uncomfortable, suddenly. I wondered whether it was the matter of her car; I cannot say I had particularly enjoyed the journey in it, but Lily had seemed an assured driver and I had not felt too much at risk with her. There was apparently a car of my own waiting now; what to do about Lily’s vehicle, and, for that matter, her feelings?

And the question was still unanswered.

I wanted to go straight to the place where Govon might be found, to see if it was he, to ask about Legolas… and I feared the consequences terribly. So much had happened already today that I did not have the courage. Perhaps, as suggested, I ought to inspect the building I allegedly owned first.

The car, so Peters told me, was a 1980 Rolls Royce Silver Shadow II in Exeter Blue with cream interior. It looked as if it were meant to hold four persons and I spent a moment looking at it first. On its front was a small statuette shaped like a female figure, bending forward into the wind. Her garments fluttered out behind her like butterfly wings and as I examined her I noticed that her tiny ears had pointed tips. It made me smile.

The chauffeur was dressed in a smart grey uniform including a cap that covered his ears and most of his short, golden brown hair. When he saw me, he straightened up, touched his cap, and tried to look willing.

‘Seamus, is it not? Can you take us to Woodford Hall in this and then bring us back later so that Mrs Dunbar can collect her car?’

‘Of course, my lord.’ He held open one of the rear doors of the car and gestured Lily to get in before crossing to hold the other door for me. ‘Is Peters coming too, my lord?’

Peters looked as if he intended to, and I supposed it would make sense; he would be able to assist with any queries I had about the building.

‘Yes. Thank you, Seamus.’

I folded myself into the car and he shut the door for me. Seatbelts went on, Peters got in, and we drove off through Leeds and out to the northern suburbs of the city where, after some navigation of small and narrow roads, we pulled in at a gated driveway. Peters jumped out to open the gates, and we drove up past a sweep of lawn and grounds and the bulk of the hall on our left.

But I was looking to the right, where a mature deciduous woodland rose magnificently up into the sky. Of course, these were much smaller than the trees I had known, but I was still comforted by the sight.

‘Oh, Thranduil!’ Lily exclaimed, finding her voice again. Isn’t it beautiful?’

‘Indeed,’ I said, continuing to look at the woodland. ‘It is rather wonderful here.’

We disembarked and Peters rattled a cluster of keys.

‘You have your own keys for the all lets, and the main door, sir?’ he asked. 

I produced the bunch of keys with the postcoded label attached, and he talked me through them once the main door was open.

‘In the past, once we have established identity, we have taken keys for the furnished lets into safekeeping on behalf of the residents... This is for seven… and three… the other is the coach house, of course.’

‘Of course. Lead on.’

There was a sweeping staircase which wound around and up and at the very top was apartment seven. The door led into a long and narrow and awkward corridor that ran both left and right, and I followed Peters to the right to see the spacious and empty rooms beyond. None of them made much sense to me; I recognised a bathroom, tiled in horrid green and mustard tiles that Peters and Lily both enthused over, a very pleasant room with a sky light through which one would have been able to watch the stars, but instead of having it as a bedroom, it was, instead, a kitchen. The sitting room was large, the two bedrooms more than adequate, and the dining room a waste of space, in my opinion.

‘Do you like it, my lord?’

‘It opens out well, but the entrance is cramped,’ I said. ‘Its position at the top of the house is good, however.’

Apartment three was on the ground floor, and the entrance was into a much better hallway, square, leading off to most of the rooms. The ceilings were high, the walls were pale, but I did not feel at all at ease there. But that was probably because the large windows looked over the grass and across a small road to some much more modern buildings. I would have felt exposed there. But I thought Legolas might have liked it.

‘How are the empty lets chosen, Peters?’ I asked. 

‘Ah. Well, it is effectively a rolling programme, so whenever one of the lets falls empty we offer them all and once one is taken, the other three are removed from the market. In the case of the coach house, it’s just been refurbished...’

‘So technically there were only two lets available?’ I asked sharply; I had not real intention of sounding officious, but I felt I ought to let them know that simply because I had been out of circulation for a while did not mean I would stand for poor service. ‘Was that something agreed to?’

‘Well, no, technically not... but it has only been for a few months and had you arrived earlier, my lord, one of the other tenancies could have been rearranged...’

‘I see,’ I said. ‘So, generally speaking, the three least popular lets are the ones which end up being kept vacant. I suppose I should count myself fortunate that this coach house sounds to be in good condition. But this flat, overlooked as it is will simply not do.’ 

Lily looked at once both disappointed and pleased as we left the main building, following a now somewhat flustered Peters towards a separate edifice boasting its own clock tower.

‘What is the matter?’ I asked her, holding back a little.

‘You mean apart from you intimidating your Mr Peters as if you were born to it?’ she asked. ‘Well… thinking back to this morning when you were a homeless man in a borrowed tee shirt and now… I don’t know what you are…’

‘I am a very grateful individual who would not have been here without your aid,’ I told her. ‘Shall we look at this coach house?’

And it was perfect.

It had even bigger windows that the apartment in the main building, but they faced inwards, towards a courtyard and across to more woodland.  
The rooms were spacious and clean and appeared more modern, somehow, than the other building. Peters was wittering on about how the recent conversion was not subject to quite the same regulations as the main block, and I looked about me and realised that the building was talking to me far more loudly than Peters.

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘It will do.’

And suddenly a wealth of ideas unfolded and I walked into the middle of the first room and began talking.

‘It needs furnishings; see to it. A pale leather suite for the sitting room – chairs as well as sofas, make them large… plenty of seating, I wish to gather my family and friends about me... one of those television things… I want to be able to go online…’ I glanced at Lily to make sure I had the correct terminology, ‘so that must be done immediately. And a laptop. And…’

‘My lord, how about if I show you this brochure?’ Peters said, eager to get back in my good graces. ‘And we can visit a suitable shop in Leeds for the laptop… the building is already wired for broadband… I can prioritise connection…’

I flicked through the pages, marking what I wanted, knowing immediately what would work and what would not, and where I may have hesitated, Lily was there to point and suggest. Everything from bookcases to bedding, plates and pictures… we went through and furnished the entire house in less than twenty minutes, leaving Peters looking rather dazed.

‘Um… I don’t want to pour cold water…’ Lily began tentatively. ‘But how much did we just spend?’

Peters reeled off a number, and Lily staggered. 

‘How much?’

‘And more for expedited delivery. Plus there’s the electronics to pick out… Don’t worry,’ he added very softly, assuming I would not be able to hear as I was examining the bathroom while he and Lily spoke. ‘He’s good for it… and a lot more… that’s not even going to put a dent in the interest, never mind the capital. It’s been building up for forty years untouched…’

Well. That was good to know, I supposed. The numbers really didn’t mean a lot to me. I returned to the hall where they had been talking.

‘How long will it take before all is ready?’

‘Ah…’ Peters spread his hands in a gesture meant to indicate uncertainty, placation. ‘I’ll get on to the suppliers as soon as I return to the office. Some items will be delivered in a day or so, but the more specialist choices could be perhaps two or three weeks… I can recommend an excellent hotel…’

I heard Lily’s voice hiss between her teeth and I realised she would be utterly offended if were to agree. And yet, I could only be an encumbrance to her… I did not understand.

But I did understand that, but for her, I might well have stayed in the warehouse, next to Bold Hart’s antlers where, eventually, I might have faded and been lost amongst the artefacts. She had been generous and unstinting of her time and hospitality and I owed her the courtesy of respect.

‘That will not be necessary; I am quite content at Mrs Dunbar’s for the moment.’ I walked through the coach house once more, taking in the views from each window, enjoying the sense that it was mine, that I had a home once more. ‘If that offends you, I suggest you expedite matters pertaining to the habitability of the coach house forthwith... very well, I think we are done here; shall we go?’

The drive back to the city took place in comparative silence; I did not wish Peters to think I had quite forgotten the bending of the agreement quite so swiftly and so I kept discussions to the best place to acquire the electronic equipment I required. 

We were soon in a large shop where, once my needs were voiced, one could almost sense the glee from the manager, and assistants were vying for the chance to assist; well, there were more staff than customers, so they were probably bored, if nothing else.

Using the rule of thumb that the more expensive a product was, the more likely its superiority (given one or two obvious marketing ploys) it did not take too long before I was owner of a fully functional laptop and a mobile phone – which seemed to have so many other purposes that voice communication appeared to be a very minor part of it – all set up and ready for use. Peters stored his contact details, and Lily almost wrenched the phone from his hands so that she could add her own. It amused me, but I was careful not to show it.

‘Thank you, Peters. Seamus will drive to the office, you may load the Rolls with the purchases; make sure the rest of the garments held in store for me are loaded in, too... Mrs Dunbar and I will take her car home. I do not think I will need any more from you today after that.’


	8. Dinner With Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil has an uncomfortable moment...

‘What a day!’ Lily exclaimed as she parked the car. ‘I must admit, I don’t feel much like cooking after all that running around…’

‘Perhaps there is somewhere we can go to eat?’ I suggested. ‘I have currency now, and I do owe you lunch, twice.’

‘That sounds nice. There are some good places in town. I think I need a sit down and a cup of tea first, though.’

Seamus pulled in behind Lily’s car, removing and assembling my assorted bundles and bags of newly-acquired possessions.

‘Just put those anywhere on the path,’ Lily told him, slamming the door of her car shut. ‘We’ll sort it out.’

Seamus glanced at me for confirmation; I gave the smallest of nods so Lily wouldn’t see.

‘I don’t need you for a little while; come back at…’ I glanced at the new telling-of-hours machine on my wrist – a watch, they called it a watch… ‘Quarter to seven.’

‘Very good, my lord. If I may, you can reach me at this number any time.’

I didn’t ask what he would do in the interim; presumably, what he’d been doing for years while I was lost in the warehouse; waiting for my instructions.

*

‘I assume you have a destination in mind?’ I asked Lily as I brought in the last of my new acquisitions, laying the garments down on an empty chair. 

‘I thought maybe something simple? There’s a really good Italian in town…’

‘And has he a recommendation?’

She laughed.

‘An Italian restaurant! Well, you seemed to like the pizza…’

‘Will I need to change, at all?’ I asked, vaguely remembering something about dressing for dinner, but not from where or when.

‘Well, you might be a bit over-dressed, actually… do you mind?’ she asked, nodding towards the clothes. ‘The shirt’s fine… but you might try these… and this…’

She selected black trousers and a hide – suede, she called it – jacket in dark brown as being suitable. I carried all the garments upstairs, changed into Lily’s recommendations, and stored away the rest of the raiment. By the time I returned to the living room, Lily had made tea and unpacked my new laptop.

‘I thought you could use my broadband,’ she said, ‘so I’m just setting it up for you… you’ll need an email address… but you’re set up to go.’

‘My thanks, Lily.’

I spent the intervening time until Seamus came back talking to Lily and getting to grips with my new technology. I looked at the website for the Royal Armouries and checked all the images I could find, just in case there was someone – anyone – I recognised, but no. Either Govon was not there, or he had taken pains not to be part of the publicity photographs. Finally, noting Lily was growing more and more quiet, I set the laptop aside and fixed my eyes on her.

‘Is there anything the matter, Lily?’ I asked. ‘I’ve been out of circulation for a while… I am not quite socialised yet and it is entirely possible I may miss important conversational clues or hints…’

‘Oh, no, nothing’s up. Well… that is… as I said, from borrowed clothes to a Rolls Royce and a bank balance you could by a small country with… I don’t know who you are!’

‘Neither do I, really,’ I said. ‘But I am still the same Thranduil who saved you from children at great risk to myself.’

This drew a smile from her.

‘Well, you see, I was going to speak to Crispin in Personnel tomorrow, about getting you on the payroll… I suppose that will be easier now you’ve got a passport and bank details, but if you’re really a lord, I’m not sure you need a wage now…’

‘Something to do, while I am here, is important,’ I said. ‘And to be officially a part of the company will be useful, I am certain. If one of my kinsmen is working at the Royal Armouries, then to be in an associated line of work could be an advantage.’

‘I was wondering about those names what’s-his-face read out… they all sounded odd – unusual – like yours.’

‘Yes. Let me see…’ How could I explain that these were people I had known millennia ago? That their names were Silvan, or Sindarin? ‘I think previous Thranduils must have made the list. I recognised familiar names. Family names, family careers… relatives, kinsmen… I had not forgotten I had a son, and I know he had friends… I even recall one was named Govon… I was hoping…’

‘…if you could find this Govon, you might find your boy? Well, why didn’t you say? We could have gone to the Armouries today, if you’d wanted…’

‘I know. But I am… perhaps… afraid. If Govon is there and my son is not...’

‘It’s Tuesday tomorrow; I’m sure they’re open until five. We can go after work, if we’re sharp about it. Or in the lunch hour, if you’d rather… after all, I might have to get back, but you probably won’t have to. Not until you’re on the books…’

‘I am not certain I would wish to work all of each day.’

‘Oh, how nice to not have to work full-time! I can always ask Crispin to put you down as a part-timer. That might work.’

I didn’t ask how many rules she was likely to be contravening by presenting me to this Crispin, but I assumed it was not strictly protocol.

‘Thank you for wanting to come back here,’ she said, a hint of shyness in her voice. ‘When you could have gone to a hotel. Now you know you could have afforded it.’

‘Better to be with a friend than amongst strangers,’ I said.

She was silent for a moment before making some startled exclamation about the time and that she needed to change.

It did seem to take rather a long time to judge by the results. She was now wearing a dress that ended below her knees but above her ankles, and it occurred to me that many females had been displaying ankles, shins, even knees… I knew I must have been aware of such changes previously, but the omissions in my memory…

‘You look very nice,’ I said, remembering, at least, that something of that order was needed.

She smiled and patted her hair and thanked me, and I was spared any awkwardness when a smart rapping at the door announced Seamus’ return.

‘Where to, my lord?’ he asked as he held the door. 

Lily having told me the name of the place, I repeated it, slung my jacket around my shoulders, and got into the car.

The drive to the restaurant didn’t take long; this time of evening the highways were comparatively quiet and the restaurant situated just on one of the main roads. Due to the vagaries of the one-way system, Seamus had to drop us off at the previous junction.

‘I’ll call you when we’re ready to come home,’ I told him.

‘I should be with you within a few minutes of that, sir. I won’t be far away.’

The food was good, plentiful, authentic (apparently), and the wine adequate for a place such as this. All was going well, I thought, until towards the end of the evening. The wine was finished, the coffee served, and a mellow mood settling over us. I found myself relaxing and growing comfortable when I noticed a change seemed to have come over Lily.

I came alert again in an instant and looked at my friend.

Her eyes were wide, the pupils more dilated than even the semi-dim lighting of the restaurant could account for. Her respiration seemed elevated and I noticed she moistened her lips frequently, as if anxious. She fluttered her hands in her hair, and a gust of her perfume assailed me. It was a little overpowering, and did not at all have the effect I thought she might have been hoping for. Suddenly, she propped her elbows on the table and leaned across… 

And I realised… she looked alarmingly as if she might be about to attempt to perpetrate an interchange of affectionate symbolism… 

Hastily I excused myself – the bathroom, I claimed – and escaped to think. 

Lots of little things suddenly crystallised for me; her generosity over buying me lunch may have commenced as kindness, but it seemed to have rapidly blossomed into interest… after all, she had invited me to her home without any of the reserve one would expect from a woman living alone… and last night, the very first night I stayed, she had been at pains to ask if I needed anything more, lingering as she had said good night… 

Yet downstairs, in the restaurant… something, I was not quite sure what, made me think she had not fully realised what she had been about to do, that she had been acting almost unconsciously, simply a lonely woman reaching out.

She was a very nice lady, and no doubt had been lonely for a long time, but I had no wish to engage in any emotional activity with her. Yet how to avoid the matter without being boorish? There seemed to be only one course of action open to me and I would need to bring a degree of finesse to it if it were to work properly… and the timing would have to be exactly right, or else I might end up having to find a hotel, after all…  
Back at the table, the moment seemed to have passed without Lily even being aware of it. I paid the bill and found my new phone, quite proud of myself for managing to call Seamus without asking for assistance.

‘I’m impressed,’ Lily said.

‘Thank you. I tend to pick some things up quite easily. May I help with your coat?’

And as I draped the garment across her shoulders she turned her face and the moment, the perfect moment was there. She leaned in, and I echoed the movement, brushing my lips against hers and then backing hastily away.

‘Lily, forgive me,’ I said quickly. ‘I quite forgot myself. What you must think of me…’

‘I... No, no, it’s…’

‘I realise that was most inappropriate, I assure you, it will not happen again. Ah, I am an idiot! A combination of tiredness, alcohol, your kindness... It would be ridiculous of me to risk your good opinion for anything so base…’

‘Thranduil…’

‘You are very wise to push me away; I quite see nothing can come of it. Do forgive me, please; I promise I will never overstep the mark again. Your friendship is far too valuable to me.’

By the time the door opened and Seamus touched his cap and held the door for us, I had poor Lily at the point of believing she actually had fended me off after I had made an inappropriate pass at her. I ushered her out into the night and allowed myself a sigh of relief. She would not be able to mention the matter on the way home; Seamus would hear whatever passed between us; and once we got there, I would, if necessary, insist on decamping to a hotel so as to make sure she knew I was not about to importune her.

But, really, I felt rather guilty. The poor woman looked so disappointed.

I wondered whether finding a suitable romantic companion for my friend would be part of Peters’ remit and if so, how one would go about it, but decided it might be rather too much interference on my part.

We drove home in near-silence, Lily deep in thought and I honouring her peace. The car stopped, Seamus held our doors.

‘Do you want me tomorrow, my lord?’

‘8.30 am sharp, if you please.’

‘Very good, sir. Goodnight sir, madam.’

*

It seemed that the journey home had given Lily time enough to absorb the import of what had passed between us in the restaurant… and for my subterfuge to have worked.

She put the kettle on and began brewing tea and then turned in her small kitchen to brace herself against the worktop and face me.

‘Thranduil, about… earlier. It’s all right – that is, I understand you’ve been alone for a long time. But that doesn’t mean you should just launch yourself at the first woman who is kind to you… do you see?’

‘Yes, Lily, I do see.’ I saw very well – she was giving me the opportunity to say that it would make no difference if she had been the _n_ th woman who was kind to me… However, I had no intention of taking her up on her unspoken offer. ‘But you have been very kind… I mistook that, perhaps, for more. However, I have no wish to make you feel uncomfortable in your own home; if you would rather I go to a hotel after all…?’

‘No, no, that’s fine,’ she said, rather quickly. ‘I’m sure I’m safe with you…’

Her voice died off to a whisper towards the end and she lowered her eyes. I really did feel very unkind. But even if I had wanted an entanglement, humans were such fragile, temporary things; it would not be fair. She needed a nice human man to distract her, not an ancient relic of an elf with holes in his memory and too much time to dwell on.

I drank the tea she made for us and bade her goodnight. 

Perhaps in the morning she would have recovered a little.


	9. The Armouries

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil braces himself to seek news of Govon...

By next morning, as I had hoped, Lily seemed to have put – I hesitate to say her disappointment, it sounds vain – my aberrant behaviour behind her, and was almost normal in her responses; I am sure she felt she was behaving no differently towards me, at least. 

Seamus presented himself at the door promptly at 8.28, and drove us down to the Discovery Centre where several individuals, parking their own cars and preparing for work, stared at the sight of my Rolls and Lily extracting herself from it. I was beginning to get the impression that it was possibly a rather pretentious vehicle.

‘When will you want me again, my lord?’

‘I am not quite sure yet. Possibly at lunch time, but otherwise, not until four or thereabouts. Consider your morning free.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

Lily was looking at me with awe as we ascended the steps to the building.

‘You got used to giving orders really fast, didn’t you?’

‘I think it may have been part of my forgotten former life,’ I told her, holding the door.

‘So you’ll be going to your warehouse now, then?’

‘Yes. And you to your work?’

‘Office on the second floor. It’s nice, you can see the river from there. I’ll either call, or bob down later to let you know what’s happening with Crispin in Personnel.’

‘Thank you. Have a good morning.’

Time, which had previously danced past me in huge, missing chunks and slid through my hands like silk, today slowed to a creeping crawl. I wandered the shelves, spent time with Bold Hart’s antlers, toyed with the idea of adding decorations to them – bells on strings, perhaps… remembering how Nelleron had loved the sound of bells in the wind. I came to the conclusion that, really, the warehouse was rather a dismal place to linger, especially the aisle with the monkeys. While now I understood the concept of taxidermy, that did not make it any more appealing.

Briefly, I wondered what these taxidermists would have done with Mirkwood’s most famed native species… arachnids the size of the striped horse yonder… it would have made an impressive display…

Around 11 am, the phone trilled and Lily was there.

‘Come up to the second floor, I’ll meet you at the top of the stairs. Crispin’s free now.’

*

Crispin hated me on sight. I was not sure why at first. He seemed reluctant to help, even while he made apparently helpful comments and took all the relevant details.

‘I can’t understand how this has happened,’ he said. ‘Or why we didn’t notice before. But everyone I’ve asked says, yes, you’ve always worked here, in the stacks… there’s even footage on the security cameras…’ He frowned and scratched his head. ‘I can’t just put you on the payroll, there needs to be a job going first, even though you’ve been doing one… the only thing we have is a liaison post… the vacancy’s not been filled – it was meant to be an internal but nobody was suitable, and it’s quite senior, too…’

He looked me over as if determined to find me unsuitable also.

I produced one the several cards Mr Dean had given me.

‘If you wish to make enquiries about my character, perhaps Dean or Peters at this establishment will be able to set your mind at rest.’

‘I’ll do that. As for the job itself, it would mean visiting other museums, talking to the staff, sorting out exchanges of displays, attending seminars and conferences…’ he sighed. ‘Well, if I can clear it with HoD – we need someone for it… we were going to have to put one of the managers in on secondment if we didn’t find someone soon…’

‘It does not sound a particularly onerous posting,’ I said.

‘No, it’s not,’ he said. ‘But it needs someone with a particular skills set, used to dealing with the moneyed classes... which means they want a huge salary before they even fill in an application form and there isn’t that kind of money around at the moment...’

‘I do not necessarily need a salary, if that is a problem,’ I told him. ‘Record me as a part-time volunteer specializing in the ancient world, if you wish.’

‘It’s a possibility, I suppose. Back pay might be an issue otherwise. You’ll need to do a walk-through interview at least... I can set that up easily enough… after that I suppose we could consider you for the secondment; after all, you have been here for a while even if your paperwork was... misplaced...’ He finished filling in the forms, gave them to me to sign, and then changed the subject. ‘You’re staying at Lily’s, she said?’

‘Indeed. I was in need of accommodation while my own apartment is being renovated. She was so kind as to offer me her spare room.’

‘Ah. Only I’ve known Lily a long time and…’

‘And…?’

He turned back to his papers.

‘Well, that’s fine. You should get your contract through the internal mail soon. Come up in the morning to collect your ID card.’

And that was it.

I went back to where Lily waited outside.

‘How was it?’ she asked. 

‘I think all is now sorted. But your friend Crispin hates me.’

‘What? Why?’

‘Because he likes you, I think.’

‘What? Really? All the years I’ve known him and… are you sure?’

I shrugged.

‘He seems to dislike the fact that I’m staying with you, at least.’

She brightened up a little.

‘I’ll have to have a word with him about that,’ she said. ‘Meet you in the canteen at twelve? You can buy today.’

*

‘What are you going to do about the Armouries?’ Lily asked as we sat over food. ‘I can finish at four fifteen today, at a pinch…’

‘I don’t know.’ I wasn’t sure that I wanted her with me, whether I found Govon or not; success or failure, both would be equally hard to share. 

‘Almost, I do not wish to go…’

‘What are you worried about?’ she asked, and I shook my head. I didn’t know that, either. ‘Look, whether you find your friend or not, isn’t it better to get it over with?’

‘Perhaps. And yet… perhaps it is better not to know…’

‘My grandma said that, when she found a lump.’ Lily sniffed. ‘If she’d gone to the doctor straight away, she might have lived longer.’

‘It is hardly the same thing…’

‘Call your lackey to meet us outside at four fifteen. It’s not far to walk, but that car of yours does make quite a statement.’

And so it seemed I had no option but to go along with her plan. I was more glad than ever that I had not let her kiss me; it meant we could still be friends and that I might still benefit from her wisdom.

*  
The Royal Armouries was an impressive building, very modern, beside the river and really not at all far from the Discovery Centre. It had high spaces and an echoing air of calm in spite of the buzz of people around. We were admonished that last entry was four thirty and that closing time was 5 pm sharp, but when Lily asked, we were given a leaflet with display times on, but it seemed that many had already finished for the day.

‘We might have to come back on Saturday,’ Lily said. ‘Oh, wait, it says there’ll be someone in the War Gallery... this way…’

We travelled up in a clear-sided box – a lift – and got out, seeking the correct place. Around were cases filled with armour, swords such as I had known and others unfamiliar to me. I would have liked to stop, to stare, to examine… but all at once I heard the clash of steel on steel, and hastened towards the sound.

In a roped- off arena surrounded by benches where a desultory audience watched, two figures in unfamiliar armour were sparring with short swords. They wore red kilted tunics and leather sandals, helmets hiding their faces and their ears but I was sure I knew the stance of one and before I knew I had hurried towards the ropes. A flash of recognition as the one I thought I knew saw me, faltered, and the other pressed the point of his sword against his breastplate.

The audience applauded and the fighters exchanged words. Perhaps only my elvish hearing made them out.

‘What was that about, Gavin? We were meant to carry on for at least another five minutes... if this is an excuse to…’

‘No, I was distracted… thought I saw someone I knew in the crowd… sorry…’

‘Well, it’s done now. You take can the questions.’

‘But…’

‘That’s how it goes. Loser takes the session. Sorry, Gav.’

The winner slid out between the ropes, waving as he loped off; the loser removed his helmet, revealing long auburn hair beneath a leather cap that hid his ears, hazel eyes, a face I recognised.

Govon.

He tucked the helmet under his arm and smiled at the audience in a slightly ferocious way, trying not to look in my direction.

‘Does anyone have any questions?’ he asked.

However long it had been, I could still hear a trace of Silvan accent in his voice.

There were not many people; a few parents with very small children in hand, and most of the questions were about the armour, the sword, the… the Roman he had been pretending to be. 

I hung back, uncertain as I had never been uncertain before.

‘What’s the matter?’ Lily whispered. ‘Is it him?’

‘Yes. I think so.’

‘Well? What are you waiting for? He’ll go in a minute if you don’t do something…’

And, indeed, it did seem the questions were faltering, as if people now were lingering out of politeness.

Govon gave a nod and a smile as if about to leave, and the last of the people turned away. And then, in a clear voice and earning my deepest gratitude, Lily stepped forward.

‘Do you know someone called Thranduil?’ she asked.

‘Who?’ His voice was a ghost.

‘Thranduil. You can’t mistake him, tall chap, has these cheekbones, all this champagne coloured hair… imposing.’ She gave me a withering look that almost made me laugh. ‘Not in the least bit invisible, even if he is a bit on the shy side today… Come on!’

I stepped forward and Govon dropped to one knee, head bowed.

‘My king, I…’

‘Rise, Govon, this is not appropriate for this century. I am a Lord, they tell me, but that is all.’

Lily was staring. 

‘King?’ she said.

‘It is a long story,’ I told her.

‘Oh, you poor thing, what’s up?’ she asked, hurrying to Govon who had managed to get back to his feet but who was shaking and pale-faced. ‘Sit down…’

She helped him to a bench and sat next to him, her arm steadying his shoulders. Nice try, I thought. Wasting your time, though.

‘It is you?’ Govon asked. ‘Thranduil? Really? I… Forgive me, things have been difficult of late… sometimes I see things that can’t be there and…’

‘Govon, be assured, it is I, all will be well, I promise you. But… please tell me you know this… what happened to my son? Where is he?’

‘He’s at home.’

‘Home?’ Did he not sail after all, did Govon persuade him? Can it be true, he was still here?

Govon gave himself a shake as if becoming aware of Lily’s arm. 

‘Thank you, Miss. I will be fine, it was just a shock, that’s all. We thought… we thought Thranduil was dead or worse…’

‘No, not dead. Impatient, however. Legolas. He is well?’

‘He’s safe at home. He’ll be better when I tell him… this is…’ he shook his head. ‘There was someone, a while ago, came looking for us. I didn’t know who he was… we didn’t know whether to trust him or not… Arveldir was starting to fade... and then we couldn’t find Erestor…’

‘They sailed. The one who approached you…’ I sighed. ‘He was under orders to help you. Any of you. I don’t remember all of it, but… And Legolas? He didn’t sail?’

‘No, he… we… Oh, long story. But, no. In the end he stayed with me.’

‘I am relieved you proved so persuasive… And…?’

‘There’ll be time for all that later,’ Lily said crisply. ‘This poor chap’s still shaking… Gavin… Govon… whichever it is… can we get you home?’

‘I need to change, first. I finish at… well, now. After the last of the questions. I’ll show you where you can wait for me…’


	10. Legolas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Govon takes Thranduil home...

‘You won’t want me tagging along, will you?’ Lily said as we waited for Govon. ‘Not when you see your son… I mean, I wouldn’t expect…’

In the old days I would have said, yes, you are right, you would be an intrusion. But that was when I was a king and almost everyone I spoke to was either my subject or my inferior, rarely my equal. Now, all was changed, and I had to remember my manners.

Besides, she had been kind.

‘I hope you will not be offended?’ I said, gentling my voice. ‘We will drive you home – I should like to collect my case, there are things in there my son will be interested in… and then Seamus will take me over to Govon’s, wherever that might be. I do not know how long I will be there…’

‘If it was my son, and I hadn’t known where he was and I’d found him after a long time apart, I wouldn’t be worrying about what some random person thought, I’d be staying with him…’

‘Thank you. But you are not a random person, you are my friend, the first person to befriend me in many years. I would hope to be asked to stay with them, perhaps, if there is room, if I will not be an intrusion.’

‘You’ll want to pick up clothes, then, as well. Look, I can take my car to work tomorrow, don’t worry about that. But now you’re going to be on the payroll, you’ll need to show up for nine… and you should go up to Crispin, he’ll have your id badge and everything.’

‘Understood. My thanks, Lily.’ I turned away to phone Seamus and tell him to come and collect us. ‘I really am most grateful, you know.’

She smiled.

‘You do keep saying that…’

Govon appeared from one of the discreet staff-only doors. He was dressed in jeans and a loose jumper with a hood attached, his hair tied back rather than braided as of old. I must have quirked an eyebrow at him, for he shrugged and smiled.

‘Got to move with the times, Thranduil.’

‘Indeed? I do not see why.’

We walked out of the building and towards the pick-up zone. The Rolls was just pulling in and I noticed Govon’s jaw drop, noted Lily’s rather smug expression as she saw, too.

Seamus jumped out.

‘Where to, my lord?’

‘Mrs Dunbar’s house; we will drop her off, and I will collect a few items. Then on to Govon’s.’

‘Very good, sir.’

‘Shall I ride up front?’ Govon said, climbing in before any more could be said on the matter.

We paused at Lily’s long enough for me to collect my case and the laptop, throw a few clean clothes into a bag and for me to thank her once more.

‘Please, do not wait up,’ I said. ‘If I should need to return tonight, I will call first.’

‘Call anyway,’ she said. ‘Let me know how things are. I’d like to know.’

Govon had removed himself – or had been encouraged to remove himself – onto the back seat. He rattled off an address to Seamus, and settled back.

‘You’ll pardon me saying, sire, this car… and that postcode?’

‘In fact, I was befriended by Lily before I knew about the car. And she has been most helpful. Where is it you and Legolas are housed?’

‘One of the new city living apartment buildings. It more or less came with the job – if you didn’t have anywhere to live when you signed up, they subsidise the rent in these places. It’s not too far – we used to walk to work at first. But… not these days, it’s not as easy now.’

‘Why? Govon, is something wrong?’

He took a deep breath and turned to face me.

‘Yes, Thranduil. I’m not sure what, but… I think there is.’

‘But… I asked, you said my son was fine…’

‘I said he was at home. I didn’t want to worry you and I didn’t know who that woman with you was, how much she knew... But… lately, something’s been amiss. I don’t know what it is, I thought I was imagining it… I still might be…’

‘You are worrying me, now!’

‘Sorry. But, you know, I’ve been worried myself and I can’t let him know that…’

We drove through the city centre and out on the other side, Seamus taking the Rolls along a main road and off into an access street.

‘Is this the block, sir?’ he asked, turning to look at Govon.

‘It is so, my thanks.’

I got out and Seamus took my bags, handing them to Govon who didn’t seem to mind.

‘Thank you, Seamus. I think that will be all… I may stay?’ I looked to Govon, who nodded. ‘Be here at 8.15; I will need to be at the centre for 8.45, if possible. And we may go via the Royal Armouries, I’m not sure yet.’

‘Of course, my lord. Have a good evening, sir.’

Govon led the way into the building and towards a lift.

‘Where did you find him?’

‘He was with the car.’

‘And the car?’

‘Ah. Arranged by a firm of solicitors, the same who offered to help you. Apparently, I engaged their company generations ago, and they have been taking care of my business matters in perpetuity.’

Out of the lift and along a corridor. Govon paused outside a door.

‘Sire, I…’

‘No longer. You will just have to call me Thranduil now.’

‘Thranduil.’ He sighed. ‘Look, I know you will want to just go to him, but… sometimes he thinks he sees people from the old days, ghosts, hallucinations. Sometimes I think I see them, too… but I wouldn’t want him to see you and think… let me explain to him, first.’

I nodded.

‘Very well.’

He opened the door and went in, leaving me to shut and lock it after me. There was a long, narrow passage, and I wondered if Woodford would not suit them better, especially as the sitting room at the end seemed very modern and bleak.

There was a chair facing a television. It was on, the sound off. Next to the chair, a small table held a plate of sandwiches, untouched, and a cup of coffee. From the stale, sad aroma, I guessed it was long cold. 

In the chair was a figure, its back to the doorway. I could see long, flaxen blond hair, a blanket around the shoulders, and the backs of a pair of ears with pointed tips.

My heart stopped, eventually started again twice as fast. My son, surely, my son...?

‘Legolas?’ Govon said clearly, walking round to the front of the chair and dropping to his knees. ‘My fair elf, I’m home.’

There was something about the gentleness of his voice that made me want to weep. He took my son’s hands in his and I saw him gently squeeze the fingers, give a very tiny shake. 

‘Legolas, come on now, melleth! Come back!’

The figure in the chair gave a little start, as if waking suddenly.

‘Govon? Did you come back for something? Won’t you be late?’

Govon dipped his head to rest against their joined hands for a moment.

‘No, melleth. I’m home for the evening; I’ve been out all day…’

‘Are you sure…?’ I saw the head turn, look to the table with its load of food. ‘It’s happened again, Govon! I was sure I… I was going to get up, to come to the window and wave to you, like I usually do… used to do… and I thought I had, and… and now…’

‘Hush, it’s all right, I promise you, melleth-nin, it’s fine, don’t worry…’ Govon raised his eyes and shot me an agonized glance. ‘Listen, I have some news… we have a guest, a visitor…’

‘But, we can’t have friends round, we… we agreed it would be too dangerous…’

‘This is a friend from the old days… Don’t be upset, don’t worry when you see, don’t be afraid, it really is he…’ My honour-son nodded to me. ‘Please, come in now. And be welcome, in truth, you are, most welcome.’

He got to his feet, keeping hold of Legolas’ hands to help him up and gently turn him as I walked fully into the room.

‘It’s your father.’

‘Ada…? No, it… Govon, it can’t be, we looked, they looked, and…’

‘Ion-nin.’ 

I walked forwards with my hands outstretched for him to greet me the old way, palm to palm, foreheads together, but with a sob he broke free of Govon’s supporting hand and flung himself at me, into my arms. 

I caught him, of course I caught him, and held him as if he was brittle, like fragile autumn leaves I wanted to keep whole. He felt no heavier than a handful of leaves, anyway, and he was too cool and somehow not there at the same time as I embraced him, folding my arms around and rocking him as I had when he’d used to run to me as a frightened little elfling.

‘Ada, Ada, Ada,’ he repeated, a litany, a spell to make me real, and, ‘my son, oh, my beautiful son, my Legolas, my leaf, my little leaf, ion-nin, ion-nin…’

A sound outside of the two of us made me open my eyes and look up. Govon was leaning against the nearest wall and had one arm cast over his face. He was weeping, trying to do so quietly, unobtrusively.

‘Oh, Govon, come here my honour-son, my other son, come…’

I made space for him in my embrace, so I held my son and my honour-son, and my honour-son held his lover, and we all clung together, a last little enclave of elvenkind amongst a sea of humanity, together, united, reunited.

Strong.

Well, stronger, at least.


	11. Reunited

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the reunited family spend the evening catching up...

Eventually, we disentangled ourselves. It would have been embarrassing to have them see me weeping, but for the fact that their own eyes were so blurred with tears and I was sure they would not have noticed. I did not want to let go of my son, but Govon was his fëa-mate and so would have had every right to object at my clinging. Not that he did. Besides, I think my son was clinging more.

‘Why don’t you two sit down on the sofa?’ Govon suggested. ‘I’ll make drinks… what will you have, Adar?’

‘I will have strong coffee, black, thank you.’ 

As Govon had suggested, I led my son to the sofa and sat down with him, careful to put Legolas in the middle so that Govon could be on his other side when he joined us. In my pocket was a voluminous handkerchief which I extracted it and gave to my son.

‘There really is no need to weep, so dry your tears, ion-nin. I am very glad to see you.’

Legolas gave a laugh that was almost a sob as he dried his face.

‘Oh, Ada!... we thought we were the last… we thought… we heard there was someone going around tracking us down, and disappearing us… Erestor and Arveldir… we found them, some time ago…’

‘1876,’ Govon confirmed from the kitchen. ‘Erestor had got attached to someone’s library, and Arveldir with him. We were in and out of touch after that… Then, in the 1930s, we lost them… until finally Erestor surfaced in charge of another collection of books. He helped set up the library at the Royal Armouries and was able to let us know when they were looking for staff.’

‘But Arveldir wasn’t well. He… we think he was fading. He would lose track of time, hours, days sometimes. See people from the old days who weren’t really there. Erestor was worried…’

‘Then they were contacted by some firm of solicitors claiming to have been instructed to provide help to any of your kinsmen they found…’ Govon brought in a tray and set it down, handing Legolas his cup as if he were a child in need of aid. ‘There. Drink up, melleth-nin… Next thing we knew, Erestor and Arveldir had moved to a different part of town, they sounded well… and then they vanished. Gone.’

‘They sailed. They took a cruise, stole a lifeboat from the ship they were on, and went home.’

‘But… do you know that?’ Govon said. ‘Or is it a guess?’

Of course, he was Silvan. Silvans always doubted the welcome waiting in the Undying Lands.

‘We cannot know for certain that any arrived in Valinor, except those of whom Glorfindel spoke,’ I said softly. ‘But there is indeed a house in another part of town… it has two flats available, and I am having the coach house furnished for myself. It is amongst trees, Govon, mature deciduous woodland, oak and chestnut and beech… rowan and hazel… you must come and see, one day soon.’

Govon crossed to the window and stood looking out. Even from where I sat, I could see the vista spreading below, clusters of lights, some moving, some still; red, white, orange, blue. But the skies were so devoid of stars, compared to our day.

‘Perhaps we will,’ he said. ‘When Legolas feels up to it.’

I felt Legolas stir against me, moving to sit a little more upright, to lean on me less. He seemed to become aware of the room again, his eyes lighting on Govon and travelling, lingering, over him. I smiled to myself. Back in the days of the forest, when I first met Govon, I had wondered if he truly cared for my son, or if he just saw a prince, a position, a place. But it had not taken me long to realise there was more to it than that, and if I had ever had any doubts, I would have had to relinquish them when I’d seen Govon take my son’s hands in his and try gently to bestir him. All these long years they had been caring for each other, clinging together.

I wondered what would have happened to Legolas without Govon; the thought made me shiver.

‘Are those yours, Adar?’ Legolas asked, seeing my two cases. ‘Are you staying over?’

Govon turned his head away from the dark vista outside.

‘We have a guest room and you’re most welcome, Honour-Ada,’ he said with his old, familiar grin; I almost believed it was genuine, but his hazel eyes were just a little haunted. ‘Especially if I can get a lift to work with you in the morning?’

‘Thank you; I’ve no wish to intrude… but I must confess I had hoped you would permit it.’

‘Yes, I heard you giving your orders to the driver. But you know you’re more than welcome,’ Govon said. ‘Do you want anything to eat?’

‘We could go out, if you like? I have the currency…’

‘I’d rather not, tonight.’ Govon glanced at Legolas. ‘I’ll start a pizza cooking.’

Legolas smiled and turned towards me. ‘I wonder if you have had pizza? It is… not something we would have thought of, at home.’

‘In fact, that is exactly what my human friend Lily cooked for me on the night she took me home…’

My son stared at me. 

‘You let a human take you home? A female?’

‘I think I had been unwell. These blanks spaces in your memory, and those of Arveldir... I think I have had them, also. Lily came to the place where I was... living, and I had reason to speak to her… she bought lunch for me – I had not known I needed to eat… and then… I thought it was the next day, but she believed we had lunched on Friday and it was on Monday we were speaking. So I had lost three days, effectively.’

‘Three?’ Govon said sharply from the kitchen. ‘And you came back?’

‘Let me get my case; I can show rather longer blank spaces than that…’

Govon pulled a small table over and brought my case to me; I opened it and removed the tengwar diaries and documents. 

‘Oh, real writing again!’ Govon exclaimed.

‘Take a look through,’ I said, handing a random selection of pages to each of them. ‘My last clear recollection – before these last few days and before I rediscovered this case – was of a dragon attack over what is now Northumberland… it seems to be, that when I cease interaction with others, that I lose track of time. I have been fortunate, though; I have one or two things from the old days that helped me remember who I am. Transitional objects, you might say.’

‘I know what you mean. Things from the old days help; I had my knives,’ Legolas said. ‘But, over time… that is how I came to be accepted at the Royal Armouries, I think, they wanted to see if I could pretend to fight and I demonstrated with my knives. But there was a mix up, and one got lent to another museum, and then my last broke… it went for repair and… and that is when I started to slip away. I worked with the horses for a while; it was good, they saw me… but then… I am so lucky to have Govon, but when he is out…’

‘I still have my arm band, you see,’ Govon said. ‘So even when we are apart, I can fix myself on him. But, Thranduil, all these gaps! And nothing from more than a hundred years ago in your notes...’

I shrugged.

‘I have no recollection of writing even these documents; perhaps I did not realise I needed to make notes before then? Or perhaps they were lost... what matters is that I am here now.’

Is it true, what I read here, about the drugs? Or is it just a story to explain things?’

‘I do not remember enough to know. But I was beside Bold Hart’s antlers when I became self-aware once more. And, after I had woken, and eaten, and been seen by Lily, I remembered what else I had… and I fell into reverie with it in my hand, or I lost two days, I do not know…’

‘When ‘Las goes away, it is not like reverie,’ Govon said. ‘It looks a little like it. But there is too much emptiness. Sometimes... sometimes his eyes close, it’s odd to see. And I think it makes him more tired, more in need of real rest…’

‘But I fear to sleep, Adar. Just in case I do not come back.’

‘Well, perhaps my lost days were reverie. Let me show you what I have…’

I had taken to keeping it in a little pouch in the pocket of my clothes, where I could feel it through the fabric. I found it now, untied the pouch.

‘Hold out your hands, ion-nin.’

And I tumbled his mother’s starlight gemstone into his cupped palms.

‘Adar! You still have Naneth’s jewel!’

‘I do, indeed. And I wonder if that is why I am still here, after all this time alone. Because her stone has been with me and her memories always there for me to draw on.’

I watched as Legolas stroked the facets of the diamond, saw how Govon stared at my son’s face. Already Legolas’ colour was better, stronger, although he had always been pale. And now, he was slight, too thin, his always-prominent cheekbones as sharp as the knives he had used to carry.

He glanced up, and the glitter of his eyes was like the sparkle from the jewel’s facets.

‘There is something else, too,’ I said. ‘Govon, I think you should get it. In that pocket in the case… yes, that small envelope… I do not know why I have it with me, but it has been kept safe…’

Govon gulped as he saw what was within, and his eyes filled with tears.

‘You have it still,’ he said, his voice trembling. ‘You don’t remember… the dragon fight you remembered… we were there, too. We stood with you, you with us… and after, Legolas and I talked… we asked you to keep it. And you don’t remember?’

‘No,’ I shook my head. ‘I do not know why, or what has happened. But it is safe…’

‘What is it? Legolas asked. ‘What do you have there?’

He lifted the gem to his lips and kissed it before passing it back to me. He used to kiss his Naneth like that, I remembered as I returned the gemstone to its pouch and put it safely away.

Govon came to kneel at Legolas’ feet and removed the treasure from its housing.

Legolas saw what it was and folded forwards into Govon’s arms and clung to him. I got to my feet and went to stare out of the window over the city, trying not to hear the sounds of weeping, trying not to work out whose voice was which. 

It was such a simple thing, a half-fingerlength of woven strands, hair, bowstring, leather, the whole braided and now glued together with old, old blood and burning. Govon had made it for my son, a warrior token, when they made their vows together. He had worn it with love and pride and dignity.

Millennia ago now, there had been three dragons, grey, black, red, and the red one had burned us. Legolas had been wearing this then, and it had burned, too, a part of it melting, some mixing with his wound, and just a little, this fragment, surviving where the flames hadn’t reached. My son had healed, Govon, ever-patient, forever loving, even then, had made him another token.

Had that been lost, too? For if it had survived, why was Legolas beginning to lose time?

I had lost time.

I had lost a lot of time.

I wondered again if, perhaps, I had begun to fade, and I worried, now, that Legolas had started too. Perhaps our reunion had come just in time.

For both of us.

*

I do not know for how long I stood there, but the sounds of weeping faded and their voices began to talk.

‘Adar.’ Legolas was at my side. ‘Should I be worried about you?’

‘No, ion-nin.’ I put my arm round his shoulder for a moment, giving him a little hug. ‘Not now.’

‘The food is ready,’ Govon called from the kitchen. ‘Come, sit, eat. Drink, too, for I have opened a bottle of wine.’  
In the kitchen area, a glass-topped table had four white chairs around it. Three places were set, and I wondered that Govon had arranged it all so quickly. He poured wine into glasses and slid pizza and salad onto plates, and we sat down. Govon raised his glass.

‘I want to drink to family,’ he said. ‘To being together again.’

‘Indeed.’ I raised my glass. ‘Let us not separate again.’

During the course of the meal we passed from talking and exclaiming and smiling disbelief, to grins and laughter.

‘So what do they call you, where you are? Where did you say?’ Legolas asked. ‘Discovery Centre?’

‘Yes. By name, they call me Thranduil King. Apparently, what I do is to keep my first name and change the second as required. But it is now on record at Adrian’s that I am Professor King, Lord Thranduil... I noted, Govon, they misnamed you today?’

‘It’s easier for them to say Gavin than Govon,’ he said. 

‘But it is not your name!’

‘I know, I know. But I’m more fortunate than Legolas. When Erestor got us work, he referred to him as ernilen…’

‘They called me Neil,’ Legolas said. ‘Sometimes, I hate it. But at least my second name is Green. It reminds me of my own name, a little.’

I was appalled.

‘But it is not who you are, and… I do not wonder that you find it hard to stay part of this world, ion-nin, if you are denied your identity.’

‘Do you really think so?’ Govon asked. ‘Do you think it would help if he could be known as Legolas?’

‘Yes, indeed I do. I have remained Thranduil, and, in spite of all, I am still here… I will talk to Peters – he is my assistant, my facilitator – and see what he suggests.’

Later, once the wine was gone and we were beginning to need a little time to absorb all the wonder of our reunions, Govon showed me where the guest room was situated, a pleasant enough space equipped, not with bed, but with a sofa that converted.

‘We never really expected to have visitors,’ he said. ‘But from here, you can see some trees. Legolas likes the view, so sometimes we sit in here.’ There was such resigned love in Govon’s voice that I felt my throat closing. ‘You can’t know how good it feels not to be alone with him as he fades… to have found you, first, for him.’ 

‘Govon!’ My tone was sharp and I stepped forward to grasp his shoulder and give him a shake. ‘Legolas is not about to fade! We will not allow it. Consider; I was losing years, decades at a time. I am still here…’ I tried to put aside the uneasy feeling that, but for Lily and her unruly children, I might not have reconnected with myself. ‘We will get him his name back, reinforce his identity and sense of self. If you can think of anything that will make him feel more awake, more present, do it. We will start by keeping him with us…’

‘How? I have work tomorrow… and I think you do, too?’

‘Indeed. But Legolas can spend the day with me, and if I cannot be with him, then I am sure Lily would bear him company. I will contact Peters to learn what can be done about his name. Yours too, if you wish?’

‘No, I know who I am. Not about to fade, not going anywhere, not leaving him. Never leaving him.’

I smiled.

‘Perhaps you had better get back to him, then.’

‘I will, and… just… le fael, my king.’

He bowed, as he would have done in the old days, and I dismissed him with a lift of my hand. We both smiled.

I sat on the converted sofa and looked for my phone. It wasn’t late, not even by human standards, and I remember Lily’s exhortation that I call her, anyway. Now seemed a good moment.

‘Thranduil? Is everything all right? How is it, did you find him?’

For a moment I struggled to speak.

‘Well…?’

‘Yes. Yes, I found my son.’

‘Oh, that’s wonderful! I’m glad for you, really glad. Is he okay? His friend seemed worried.’

‘He has been ill. But I hope he will be better now.’

‘Well, that’s good. Am I going to meet him?’

‘I was hoping you would express an interest… I intend to drop Govon off for work in the morning and Legolas will accompany me. We will collect you in the car, if you like. I would like him to meet you.’

‘Oh, that sounds very kind… I do like your car, you know… so I’ll see you in the morning, then?’

‘Indeed. Goodnight, Lily.’

Later, as I tried to find reverie, I heard sounds from the other sleeping room. It was not, apparently, being used for sleeping… it felt like an intrusion, an invasion of privacy, but, really, I was not trying to listen… I would rather have preferred not to be a witness, truth to tell, but there was no denying the fact that Govon seemed to have found a very personal, very effective way to connect Legolas with the present. To judge from the cries and moans, it appeared Legolas was very much present, in the moment. Loved, in love. 

And, I suspected, quite possibly in his lover.


	12. Identity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil takes Legolas to work with him...

Next morning, their mood was brighter, more alive. My son moved with some of his former graceful fluidity and he ate a hearty breakfast. In fact, he ate pretty much all the breakfast, so that Govon had to make more toast and I assisted with the brewing of extra coffee. 

Neither of us minded, however.

‘Good to see you both looking refreshed this morning,’ I murmured as I reached for the kettle. ‘And I note you are braided again. What about moving with the times?’

‘Ai, but when one’s fëa-mate offers to braid one’s hair, it would be rude to decline.’ Govon grinned. ‘And then, there is much to be said for tradition.’

‘Indeed, yes.’

*

‘Slight change of plan, Seamus,’ I said as the chauffeur held the car door for me. ‘Royal Armouries, Mrs Dunbar’s, and thence to the Discovery Centre.’

‘Very good, my lord. Which of the young gentlemen will be riding up front?’

‘I don’t suppose you’d like to ride shotgun today, Thranduil?’ Govon asked with his bright grin. ‘For a change?’

‘You go; you will be first out, after all. Seamus, this young fellow is my son, Legolas.’

Seamus nodded. ‘Good to meet you, sir.’

I slid into my seat in time to hear Legolas reply.

‘Thank you, Seamus. Hope the old villain’s treating you well.’

‘I have no complaints, sir.’

I turned to look at my son, masking a smile. 

‘Today I will permit you to get away with that particular term of reference. But I will not be so lenient in future. Understood?’

‘Yes, Ada,’ he said, grinning.

It was a sight to warm my heart as we drove through the city streets. Traffic was starting to build up, but we got through easily enough in the Rolls and soon pulled up outside the Royal Armouries. Before Seamus could disembark to help, Govon had leapt out, opened Legolas’ door, and blessed him with a rather dramatic, apparently well-received kiss.

He straightened up and winked. 

‘Now you see why I wanted to ride in the back with him. See you later.’

It was difficult to know whether Seamus’ silence was disapproval or embarrassment. One thing I did note, though, was that what could be seen of the backs of his ears beneath the cap practically glowed red as we drove on towards Lily’s house.

Once more Seamus got out and held doors open; Legolas’ first, and then the front passenger – the shotgun seat, Govon had called it. Apparently, it was polite to allow the lady to ride in the back with the alleged lord.

But it did give Lily time to properly look at my son, for she came out of the house just as he was getting into the front seat. I saw her jaw drop, saw an odd little smile on her face.

‘Goodness, what a heart-breaker!’ she said as she joined me. ‘It must be in the genes!’

‘Well, his mother was a beauty,’ I admitted.

‘Was?’ she asked, trying to sound nonchalant.

‘She died.’

‘Oh. Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t realise…’

‘No matter. So, I have to see the ferocious Crispin again today?’

She gurgled something that may have been a relieved laugh.

‘Oh, don’t mind Crispin! He really doesn’t like authority figures… which is why he likes his job so much, he can just employ people who will annoy the bosses…’

‘And do not the bosses have any say?’

‘Well, they think they do…’

‘May I ask a favour? If I am in with Crispin, would you be able to bear my son company? He has been a little low spirited, I understand, and it is better for him to be with people… I intended taking him round the warehouse with me today…’

‘Well, get Crispin to put him on the books as a volunteer or your research assistant or something…’

‘Can he do so? Would he do so?’

‘You can but ask… but, yes, if you need me to babysit…’

I raised an eyebrow, but she did not seem to realise I was not quite happy at her terminology.

‘Oh, I do enjoy this car!’ she said as Seamus opened the door for her. 

‘Yes; it is rather fine,’ I said. ‘However, it seems to attract attention…’

Those just disembarking their own cars had paused to stare, or look, or pretend they were not staring, or looking, and within the building there did appear to be an inordinate number of individuals near the windows.

‘It’s a Rolls Royce, Thranduil,’ Lily said. ‘That’s what it’s for.’

‘Orders, sir?’ Seamus asked.

‘I doubt I will need you before noon, so take the morning to do… whatever it is you do when you are not driving me. I’ll call when I know more.’

‘Very good, my lord.’

*

Of course, once the car had gone, we, its occupants became the target of attention from those attracted to the Rolls. In our day, of course, Legolas and I had been used to stares and pointing, so it was rather like old times as we mounted the steps and entered the building.

For once, the receptionist spoke to me.

‘May I help you, sir?’

I looked at her as if I were surprised she had forgotten me.

‘Thranduil King. I have been here for some time…? However, I have a meeting with Crispin in personnel about my research assistant…’

‘Um… do you know the way?’

I allowed myself a touch of my former arrogance as I directed a withering glance in her direction.

‘I have been here since before the monkeys arrived. Of course I know the way.’

I stalked off, followed by Legolas and Lily, and found my way to the lift with no embarrassing mishaps. Once out of earshot and with the lift doors closed. Lily laughed.

‘Oh, the look on Charlotte’s face when you said that! I’ve been wanting to see her taken down a peg or two for years…’

The lift stopped and we disembarked and went in search of Crispin.

‘I’ll wait out here with your son,’ Lily said. ‘Give us chance to get to know each other a bit.’

‘Don’t be alarmed, ion-nin,’ I said. ‘Lily, I should have said earlier, but Legolas is married.’

‘Indeed I am, to Govon.’

‘Really?’ she gave a little sigh. ‘Well, I don’t know which of you is luckier... You’ll forgive me saying…’

I heard Legolas laugh and say, ‘Ai, but Govon and I disagree on that ourselves…’ as I went to knock on Crispin’s door.

‘Yes?’

‘Thranduil King. We spoke yesterday.’

Crispin looked up from his desk at me.

‘Yes, we did. Got off on the wrong foot, I think…’ He grinned. ‘Checked the reference you gave me. Impressive. Will sort out that interview for you… are you free this afternoon?’

‘As long as it is not too late, I think I can leave my warehouse for a while. Oh, and I have brought my son with me today; he wishes to volunteer as my research assistant. Again, no wage will be required.’

‘Bring him in, let’s have a look at him. He’ll need ID.’

‘Ah. He is currently in the process of changing his name… but he has been working at the Royal Armouries under the name Neil Green…’ I went to the door. ‘Legolas? Will you come and meet Crispin, who runs the personnel department?’

‘Yes, Adar.’ Legolas smiled at Lily, a friendly smile, not the sort of smile to indicate he was glad to escape. ‘It was nice to talk to you, Lily. I hope we can talk more, later?’

Crispin’s eyebrows, when he saw my son, threatened to shoot into his hairline. Not since Elrond Half-Elven’s day have I seen such dramatic eyebrows.

‘Hullo,’ he said. ‘Your father says they call you Neil?’

My son nodded and took the seat Crispin indicated.

‘Yes. But my name is Legolas.’

‘Right… How does that work, then?’

‘Just a misunderstanding, really.’

‘And you work along the way at the Armouries?’

‘Yes. Re-enactment, mostly. Or with the horses. I’m considered a crack shot with bow and longbow.’

‘Where d’you learn that?’ Crispin asked. 

Legolas smiled.

‘My father taught me.’

‘Your father…?’ 

Crispin stared at me. I gave a one handed shrug.

‘Not the bow, so much. Really, double swords are my weapons of choice,’ I said helpfully. ‘My son was once rather good with twin knives…’

‘Okay, and now you’re scaring me!’ Crispin said, grinning. 

I had learned very early on in my career that a grin did not look particularly friendly on a face such as my own. I gave him a small smile instead.

‘There is no need. Not if you give us what we want.’

He laughed.

‘Well, here’s your ID badge and swipe card… and a form for you… not-Neil… what was it again?’

‘Legolas.’

‘Legolas. Sorry. Names being sort of my business, but it’s unusual… so, what do you think you can bring to the Discovery Centre, Legolas?’

‘Bring to…? Ah. I’m something of an expert on old weapons. And horses, now, too…’

Crispin looked at me to help my son.

‘Legolas can help me in the warehouse. I think it’s fair to say he’s also good in social situations…’

‘Really?’

‘Usually,’ Legolas said. ‘In the past, I’ve given talks at the Royal Armouries on long and short and cross bow warfare through the ages, so I’ve been used to addressing crowds. And in my youth, we did mix with quite a number of high-ranking families, I think it’s fair to say, Adar?’

I nodded and Crispin raised his eyebrows again.

‘That job I was putting you up for, Thranduil… sounds as if your son could handle it, too…’

‘Well, I would be happy for him to be my assistant in the role… ah... what did you say it was, again? Exactly?’

Crispin shook his head.

‘Museum liaison officer with special responsibility for external loans. And it’s only because the preferred secondment candidate tried to goose Lily that I’m pulling strings for you. Understood?’

‘Understood. And I can assure you there will be no – ah – goosing of Mrs Dunbar from either myself or my son.’

‘Glad to hear it,’ Crispin said. He slid several sheets of paper across the desk towards us. ‘If you can fill these in, Legolas, then I can process your ID as well… how much notice will you have to give from your current post?’

‘I’m not sure,’ Legolas said. ‘I’ll need to check. Is that all right?’

‘It will be fine,’ I said firmly.

Crispin shrugged.

‘…says the man who likes two swords at a time… yes, that’s all right. Thranduil, I’ll ring down to the warehouse with details about the interview. Okay?’

‘Very well. My thanks.’ I got to my feet. ‘Come, Legolas. I’ll show you around.’

*

Lily was still outside.

‘I really should get to my desk,’ she said. ‘I do actually have proper work here…’

‘Would you like to meet for lunch?’ I asked. ‘I think I still owe you a meal?’

‘Oh, well… I couldn’t…’

‘Yes, you could. Would you like to telephone, when you are free? In the interim, I’ll show Legolas round the warehouse.’

We travelled down in the lift together and Lily waved as she got out on the first floor. 

‘See you later.’

The lift carried us down another level and I led the way to the doors to my warehouse, using my card to open the doors. Usually, I had simply found myself within.

‘This is a wonderful place,’ Legolas said, standing and looking about him. ‘So many things from the past, it is really very soothing.’

The harps caught his eye.

‘How many are there?’ he asked.

‘Five, that I know of. But none appear to be playable…’

He went across the three harps which stood on the floor. One had a paltry collection of strings, six or seven, perhaps, while of the other two one had a damaged soundbox and the third had perhaps half its strings in place. On the rack above, two more, in rather better condition, sat on the top shelf.

Before I realised what he was about, Legolas had leapt for the shelf, climbing easily up to the top by means of the supports and beginning an examination of the two harps.

‘These are in much better condition! Can you imagine what Lindir of Imladris would have done with one of these instruments?’

‘No, I am afraid I cannot… I am not sure I ever heard him play…’

‘Not exactly sure when last I did... at Imladris, a few times. Such talent!’ Legolas plucked idly at the harp strings, creating a dissonant chord. ‘He would have loved these things.’

‘Do you know what became of them, the elves of Imladris? Elrond sailed with Galadriel, I know that much. And not that long after Celeborn and I reached our agreement, he abandoned Lothlórien and sought refuge in Rivendell…’

‘I remember some of it… Lindir, he became attached to a human woman… and there had been endless stories about him, that he had to have a secret love by whom he had been spurned… yet it seemed not. He refused to sail with Elrond... more than that, I do not know. Elladan and Elrohir, they stayed for a time… I think they all sailed, eventually. Except Erestor, and Arveldir and you know about them already.’

‘Talking of sailing, ion-nin…’

He turned back to the harp and began to twiddle with the tuning points as if he hadn’t heard me. I decided now was not the time, and so I let him play with the instrument for a few minutes until I thought he had had time enough to forget I had asked.

‘Well, there is a business call I must make. I will be near the doors, should you need me. Meanwhile, if you are bored up there, you might see if you can free one or two of the bicycles from their iron fetters…’

‘All right. I just want to see if I can get an octave in place here first…’

To the background of dissonant twangings, I called Adrian’s and announced myself.

‘Put me through to Peters, will you? Thranduil King here.’

‘Yes, Professor King. One moment… transferring you now…’

And Peters’ voice.

‘Good morning, Professor King. How may I be of service today?’

‘Good morning. Firstly, I have found my son and his partner Govon…’ yes, that was the modern word for it, partner. It sounded rather business-like, to me, for so loving an arrangement as these two had. ‘My son has been living with an assumed name, and we would like to reinstate his own if possible. Can you advise me?’

‘There are several options. Bring him in to the office and we’ll sort something out. Meanwhile, does he need documents in the proper name?’

‘I think that would be a good idea. One moment…’ I set the phone aside and went to check something with Legolas. ‘What about a surname, Legolas?’ I asked him. ‘Will you keep with Green?’

‘Can I go back to Thranduilion?’ he asked, making me smile. ‘And I would like a middle name. Many people have them here… Govonnon…’

‘Govonnon?’ I lifted one eyebrow slowly and saw him grin. ‘Is that not a little obvious?’

‘It will only be on the documents. And known to the family. It’ll please him, and he’s worked so hard to keep me safe…’

‘Yes, indeed, I have reason to be grateful to him. Very well.’

I returned to the telephone. 

‘I wished to check, my son wants to adopt a middle name in honour of his partner’s family… he would like his full name to be Legolas Govonnon Thranduilion.’

Peters repeated it and questioned spellings, but otherwise didn’t comment.

‘Sir, while I have you here, you might be interested to know how we’re getting on with the coach house… most of the services will be connected by the end of today. Some of the furniture will be delivered tomorrow.’

‘Excellent. The sooner it is habitable, the better. There is a possibility I may require one or other of the two flats… perhaps both… we will be viewing at the weekend, I think.’

‘Very good, Professor. When would you like to bring your son in to the office?’

‘What time are you open until this evening?’

‘For you, we can stay as long as you wish, sir.’

‘We can probably be there for five-thirty; I’ll let Seamus know.’

‘May I ask, is the car satisfactory?’

‘Very much so. May I ask why?’

‘Oh, Seamus was saying you often have two guests with you and he wondered why you did not request the Merc… it will seat six passengers with ease…’

‘Ah. I rather like the colour of the Rolls. And the prestige. My son-in-law seems to enjoy... riding shotgun.’

‘I see, sir. Very well, we will expect you later today.’

‘Thank you, Peters. Good day.’

*

Legolas had found the taxidermy. In fact, he was sitting astride the zebra.

‘Poor dead thing,’ he said. ‘Is this what it looks like, do you think, when one starts to fade?’

‘It’s not what I will ever look like, I hope,’ I told him. ‘I understand they were dead first, and then… reconstructed for largely scientific purposes.’

‘It seems a shame.’

‘Indeed. Did you succeed with the bicycles?’

‘No, they’re all locked together.’

I took a seat on the chaise long and indicated a pink upholstered boudoir chair next to it.

‘Get down off the poor beast and come and talk to your Ada for a moment.’

‘I’d love to. Ai, Valar! I have missed you, Adar!’

‘And I you. Although, in truth, ‘Las… I thought you must have sailed…’

He ducked his head away so that I couldn’t see his face, but not before I saw something uncomfortable there.

‘What happened?’ I asked as gently as I could. ‘Not that I am not delighted – in fact, I am overjoyed… but… the sea longing was so fierce in you...’

‘I don’t know, I think I just... sort of learned to live with it. If you look at the accounts, the old stories, they all say I sailed with Gimli, after Aragorn died. And you know I had promised… I don’t think I realised how set against it Govon would be… I know – I realised at the time, his Silvan side… but I thought, with Glorfindel and all his tales, I thought he would know it was safe for him to sail. But… I don’t know if that was why, because after all, his mother sailed, other relatives of his. He simply wouldn’t talk about it. You know, you remember, we talked about everything else. But sailing was a closed topic. ‘Ithilien needs us,’ he’d say. And, looking back, it did, really. Because when we left, after Faramir and Eowyn died, the other elves went back to Mirkwood…’

‘I know that much. I also know you and Govon didn’t come with them.’

‘We… There was another, a Sinda of Lothlorien, who had stayed behind. He had known Gimli and offered himself in my place. I would have refused; I had given my sworn word – but Gimli released me from my bond. ‘Stay with your love,’ he said. ‘He needs you more.’ But I have felt guilty ever since… it has eaten away at me.’

‘Is Govon still afraid to sail?’

‘I do not think it was ever fear; I think it was pride, not to leave the forests that nurtured us. But now there is no Ithilien, no Eryn Lasgalen… perhaps he might be persuaded, if there was a ship.’

‘Oh, my little leaf! Do you not remember what Nestoril would say? There is always a ship.’


	13. Interview

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil gets a new job and takes his family out to look at Woodford...

Lunch was interesting. 

Legolas seemed to know his way around the menu far better than I did, and rattled off a huge order.

‘Is that for all of us?’ I asked quietly while Lily was dithering over cakes, making him smile.

‘I’m hungry today,’ he said. ‘I don’t think I’ve been eating properly, of late.’

I looked again at his too-prominent cheekbones, the way his clothes draped on his slight frame.

‘Would that I could argue with you, ion-nin, but it is rather apparent you have been neglecting your health.’

‘I know. No more, I promise. I’ll do all I can. Tell your friend, just get one of each, I’ll eat what she doesn’t want.’

I gestured to the plate in front of him.

‘Eat your vitamins first, then fill up on the empty calories.’

Lily joined the queue, I added more cake to the selection and paid, and we found a table. Over food, Lily had a lot of questions.

‘So, how long is it since you two saw each other? How did you lose touch?’

‘It seems like ages,’ Legolas said.

‘It was ages,’ I amended. ‘We were in Northumberland together in ’93… Lindisfarne…’

‘Oh. The island, I take it, not the band?’

‘Indeed,’ I answered. ‘Work took us apart…’

‘And you ended up here, less than half a mile away from each other… funny how things work out, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Legolas replied. ‘I’m glad we found each other.’

We ate in silence until Legolas, staring at a clock behind the counter, suddenly got to his feet.

‘It’s Govon’s break time,’ he said. ‘I’ll phone him, I think. Do you mind?’

I waved my hand. 

‘I’m sure he’d be glad to hear from you.’

He walked over towards the window to make the call, a little distance away. It gave Lily time to interrogate me.

‘So why did you lose touch?’ she demanded. ‘Was it when you found out he was gay? ’93, that’s over twenty years ago, Thranduil, he doesn’t look old enough… Have he and Govon been together that long?’

‘My son is older than you might think,’ I told her, not quite sure what she meant by ‘gay’, a word I had thought meant light of heart, playful, joyous… all words quite fitting to some groups of elves. But something about her mention of Govon suggested a different definition for the word. ‘And I will admit, Govon was not who I had expected my son to choose… but they seem happy, and Govon has certainly taken care of him while he was ill.’

‘That would be why he’s so thin… he looks like you did, when you emerged from the stacks to terrify Hunslet Primary School’s class 4B…’

We shook our heads at the memory.

‘And you picked up quite fast afterwards, you’re already looking less gaunt. So don’t you worry about your boy,’ she said, looking over to where Legolas was talking animatedly into the phone. ‘Is that Welsh? I thought Govon sounded like a Welsh name…’

I smiled as I realised Legolas was speaking in the Silvan dialect. As we watched, he laughed, and finished the call, coming back with shining eyes.

‘He was glad to hear from me! He said he’d been going to call me, but wasn’t sure if I’d answer the phone. Sometimes, I think I didn’t used to hear it.’

‘Well, ion-nin, do not worry about that now. I am sure you have brightened his day.’

Lily stared at us and I realised Legolas had spoken in Sindarin and I had answered in the same tongue. It sounded enough like Silvan that she shook her head at me, thinking it the same as Legolas had used on the phone.

‘And you speak Welsh, too? I suppose I should have expected it!’

‘It’s not really Welsh,’ Legolas said.

‘Well, sounded like it.’ In turn, she glanced at the clock. ‘I have to go – short break to make up for being away from my desk too long this morning so I don’t have to stay late…’

‘My fault?’ I asked. ‘Apologies. What time would you like Seamus to take you home this evening? We need to run into town to meet with Peters, so it would be better to drop you off first, I think…’

‘Oh, thank you… half four should do it.’

‘Very well. Have a good afternoon.’

‘And you. Good luck with the interview.’

*

Ah, yes. The interview.

Considering it had been arranged in haste, everyone seemed very prepared for it.

I sat before a panel of three individuals who asked me random questions which I spent more time querying than answering.

‘What do you think you can bring to this role, Thranduil?’

‘What would you like from me? I have a wealth of expertise over a vast range of topics… I know the stock here intimately, perhaps better than some of the specialists.’

‘Oh? Can you cite an example.’

‘Indeed. There is a set of antlers from a giant elk or Irish deer, as they were known. On display at Woodford Hall until they were acquired and brought here. They appear to be a complete set, but when one examines them closely, the integrity of the item is compromised; these were antlers which had been shed and have been remounted with a different skull plate between them. Rather better for the creature which bore them I believe…’

‘Really? Anything else?’

‘Some of the swords are rather nice. There are examples from Bronze Age through to modern specimens which still handle well. Not enough books in the store, in my opinion. And I would like to see more bicycles.’

‘How would you feel about attending conferences at other museums, Arts Council funding affairs, that sort of thing?’

‘Whatever is required. Gentlemen, we have a rich resource here. We should advertise it more, perhaps not just loan within our own region, but beyond…’

I really had no idea what they made of me; I knew enough by now to realised how atypical a person I must appear to them.

But an hour after the interview, Crispin rang down to the warehouse.

‘Congratulations, you have the job. It comes with its own office, too; just need to sort out a start date…’

When it was time to take Lily home, I could not help but notice that a small crowd gathered to watch her fold herself into the seat beside Legolas in the back – I had decided to try the front passenger seat today. Seamus looked as if I were breaking all the rules by so doing, but kept his eyes stoically forward.

I went in with Lily to fetch more clothes – it had dawned on me that a delicate strategic retreat might be in order – and resumed my shotgun seat.

‘Where to, my lord?’

‘The Royal Armouries. We are collecting my son-in-law from work and then going to Adrian’s; I’ve an appointment with Peters.’

‘Very good, sir. Would you not prefer to sit in the back, sir?’

‘We’ll let my son and son-in-law have the back seat, I think.’

‘There is always the Mercedes, sir, if you have more than one guest…’

‘I think we like the Rolls, Seamus. Of course, if you can find me one large enough, and in the right colour-way…’

‘Leave it with me, my lord; I’ll ask around.’

Govon was waiting outside the entrance for us and got in the back, kissing Legolas as if they’d been apart for weeks.

‘Good day, melleth?’ Legolas asked.

‘Yes. It did not pass swiftly enough, although I had a phone call at lunch time that cheered my afternoon. You?’

‘Yes, indeed. I have been awake for all of it. I met Adar’s friend Lily, and we had lunch… I had a lot of lunch… and I may work with my father, and he has a new job, and important one. And I almost tuned half a harp…’

It saddened me even as it amused me to listen to him talk; he sounded like a child, almost, talking about a day out, a begetting-day treat. But his voice was animated and Govon was delighted, I think, at such a talkative companion.

‘We’re going to Adar’s solicitors, now,’ Legolas added. ‘To see about taking back my name.’

*

Peters didn’t think it would be a problem. 

‘Leave it with us; we can sort out the documentation within the next few days. Meanwhile, you mentioned you might need another of the flats at Woodford?’

‘Yes, for my son and his partner.’

‘Well, here are copies of those furniture brochures if you wish to select items for your new tenants…’

‘Very well. Nothing is certain yet, we will need to see if the accommodation will suit…’

‘When would you like to view?’

‘Let me think about that for a little while. Perhaps at the weekend.’

‘If this is the place you were talking about, I’m working Saturday,’ Govon said. ‘But I have Thursday afternoon in lieu.’ 

‘Thursday afternoon it is, then.’ I looked to Peters for confirmation, and realised as I did so that there would be too many of us for the car. ‘Peters, do I have any other cars besides the Rolls and the Merc?’

‘Currently, no, sir. That is, there is the Bentley, but the engine and electrics need a complete overhaul and the garage say specialist parts   
are not easy to obtain... Don’t worry – I can meet you at the Hall. Shall we say 2.30?'

‘Perfect. I’ll see you then.’ I got to my feet and allowed him to shake hands with me, taking care not to damage his fingers too much. ‘Good day.’

I told Seamus to pick us a good restaurant and come back in two hours. We ended up eating traditional Chinese food in cramped quarters in a very popular restaurant and thoroughly enjoying the noise and the bustle and the variety of flavours. We had beer with the meal, a departure for me, but refreshing. Govon became quite merry through the evening, not so much from the alcohol, I think, as from relief that Legolas was so vital and alive once more; indeed, the contrast between him tonight and only twenty four hours previously was extreme.

‘Are you staying again tonight?’ Legolas asked.

‘If that’s convenient. I believe it better to extricate myself slowly from Lily’s life, if I can do so without hurting her feelings…’

‘You’re very welcome, Adar,’ Legolas said.

‘Yes,’ Govon echoed. ‘You brought him back to me. Of course you can stay.’

‘It really should not be for long and I could always go to a hotel…’

‘And make me lose my lift to work?’ Govon grinned. ‘Maybe not.’

*

Next day was Wednesday and Legolas and I received a summons from Crispin, my son to collect his documents, and me to agree a start date for my new post. Given that I would be moving into my coach house in the next week or so, we tentatively set a date some two and a half weeks away.

‘But you can move in to your office straight away, if you like,’ Crispin said. ‘Let me show you.’

It was on the top floor, which I liked, looking out. One could see the Armouries from here, and in the other direction, beyond the urban sprawl, greenery, and trees in the distance. There was one huge desk with appropriate chairs, and a more relaxed area near the window around a coffee table.

‘All you need now is a pretty blonde secretary,’ Crispin said, looking Legolas over. 

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘Lily is a brunette, of course. Although, if secretaries can be male as well as female, why should we not employ my son?’

‘Do you know what I mean by nepotism?’ Crispin asked.

‘Yes. Your point?’

He laughed.

‘Well, secretaries are old hat these days. PAs, that’s the thing. Now, this is a key role you’re taking over; there will be press releases, photographs for the internet sites and the museum newsletters… a range of promotional material… it might be good to take some shots of you in your warehouse, since you seem to know it so well… someone will come by in a day or so… what are you currently working?’

‘Mornings, most afternoons… I have been working weekend duties and so I think I am owed a little time… Thursday afternoon I am unavailable, house-hunting with my son and his partner…’

‘Duly noted. You might want to give some thought to the kind of bio you want in the media… write your own, if you like… Lock up when you leave, but make yourself at home.’

Legolas was staring out of the window at the distant trees; I went to join him.

‘Wait until you see the woods near the Hall, Legolas, they are beautiful, trees you can climb up into and listen to and… ‘Legolas? Ion-nin?’

He didn’t respond. I gave him a little shake, my voice sharp, urgent.

‘Legolas!’

His head jerked around towards me.

‘What? Adar?’ 

Relief. 

‘I thought you had gone again. I did not want to be responsible for losing you, even for a few moments…’

‘I was simply remembering, Adar. Those far trees… What manner of woodland? Oaks?’

‘Oak, horse chestnut, beech, elm… not many elm, sadly. Old, by the standards of the day… my son, are you sure I am not in the way at your flat? I do not want to intrude…’

‘I think Govon would agree you were an unexpected guest, but a welcome one, certainly, Adar…’

‘Come, ion-nin. Let’s go back down to the warehouse; I will need to clear my secret store from within Bold Hart’s antlers…’

‘Secret store?’

‘I’ll show you.’

Back down in the warehouse I unscrewed the antler and rummaged through to remove the little pouch with its few coins and bits and pieces from inside the wooden compartment before reassembling it.

‘I had reason to mention these at my interview; I would not like anyone to stumble upon anything of mine there…’

‘Do you have much here?’ Legolas asked. ‘In this place, I mean, not the antlers.’

‘In truth? I am not entirely sure… perhaps I had better look methodically.’

With Legolas helping, we went through all the shelves systematically, but I didn’t see anything that I knew from before, or was drawn to anything in particular on the shelves.

‘There were the items in the antlers, and the small case. I borrowed a demob suit… but no, I think that is all I had. Adrian’s had some documents for me, along with the cars, of course.’

‘Of course! Three cars? A Roller, a Merc and a Bentley? Not that I can see you in a Bentley, Adar! New money, not you at all!’

I nodded, pretending to know what he meant.

‘What shall we do this evening?’ I asked, changing the subject.

‘I think a quiet evening in would be nice.’

*

A quiet evening in. We sent out for food, which was delivered in small metal boxes and smelled interestingly spiced, and I shared Govon and Legolas’ evening with them. There were still many things to talk about, to catch up on, and the time flew by. But presently I saw them exchanging glances with each other, and I took the empty metal dishes out into the kitchen and reached for my laptop bag.

‘If you will excuse me, I will use my laptop in the guest room for an hour or so; I do not really feel like being the life and soul of the party any more tonight and I think a little time spent researching the modern world a little more; so many things are still alien to me…’

‘Goodnight, Adar-in-Honour,’ Govon said.

‘Goodnight, Adar.’

‘Goodnight, both.’

I had barely reached the door before I saw Govon’s arm sneak around Legolas’ shoulder. I smiled, truly grateful that Govon loved my son so well that he didn’t begrudge me the time here.

It was time for me to reach out, too.

I needed to know if there was anyone out there who would remember me, anyone from the old days, any of my former subjects, allies, friends… Lily had showed me something called social media and by using my email address I was able to set up an account on one of the sites. The built-in camera on the laptop took a suitable photograph by which my old associates would be able to recognise me. I was wary of some of the options – ‘interested in…’ seemed a rather dubious thing to say to strangers, and the choice was limited to men, women, both… no mention of ellyn or ellyth…

I posted a simple message: I am back, I have found my son, where are you, my friends of old? 

I did not imagine I would get any response.

I certainly did not imagine anything like the kinds of replies I did get.

But while I waited for responses to arrive, I moved away from social media and moved on. Remembering the conversation with Lily, I looked up current meanings of the word ‘gay’.

Ah. Not joyous and happy, then.

And reading the history of how such persons as my son and Govon had been treated through history, I was appalled and frightened and desperately grateful that they had managed to stay safe.

I wish I could be sure I could keep them safe from now on, and the next day at work I kept Legolas by my side as much as possible.

The morning in my warehouse passed quickly, with interruptions from Crispin and various photographers. I posed with the antlers, with the monkeys, with the zebra, with my son…

Crispin had ID for Legolas, so that he could come and go within the warehouse. My son stared at the card with his name on: Legolas Govonnon Thranduilion.

‘They almost had to make a bigger badge just to fit that all on,’ Crispin said. ‘There you go. Welcome to the Leeds Discovery Centre. Oh, and Thranduil? If you were thinking of having lunch with Lily today, don’t – I’m taking her today.’

Thank the Valar for that!

‘Make sure you behave yourself,’ I said. ‘My landlady deserves respect. But this is the afternoon that Legolas and I are going flat hunting with his partner.’

Seamus was waiting outside at 1.45 and drove us to the Armouries where we collected a rather dishevelled Govon.

‘Re-enactment; no time to shower…’

‘Then you really better had sit in the back with me,’ Legolas said.

‘I think I may have found a suitable car, my lord. Perhaps you would like to take a look at it later?’

‘Yes, indeed. Tell me more about it?’

He rattled of a set of statistics that meant nothing to me, but in the rear-view mirror Legolas looked as if it made sense to him.  
‘And…’ Seamus finished triumphantly. ‘It is the right colour, too.’

In the back seat, Govon burst out laughing.

‘How much is it?’ Legolas asked.

‘Your father can afford it, I think,’ Seamus answered.

‘Peters will know,’ I said.

*

They were cautiously impressed with the house.

‘It is a shame,’ Govon said, after we had retreated from the top flat to the ground floor apartment. ‘The one at the top of the house is lovely, that room with the window and all the sky… but why would you not have it as a bedroom, why a kitchen? And here, a wonderful room, so much space… but those houses, so close out there!’

‘They were built after this hall,’ I said. ‘But I agree. I think one could set up the top floor as bedrooms and have this flat as living space for the day time; while no-one else needs it, why not?’

‘Why not, indeed? Where next?’

‘The coach house. Peters agreed to meet us there.’

I was impressed by the changes. Carpets were down, the leather sofas were in place, and the kitchen equipment was in the process of being installed.

‘Some smaller items still to be delivered, sir,’ Peters said. ‘But the master suite is finished.’

‘It is rather fine,’ I said, admiring the space. It had been painted in the soft greens I had requested and the smell of fresh paint was evident in the room. A large looking-glass stood in one corner, and Legolas, Govon and I stood together in front of it, looking at our reflections. We were both thin, Legolas and I, and beside us Govon looked robust and strong, almost exuberantly healthy. 

‘You’ll soon fill out, melleth,’ Govon said to his fëa-mate. ‘And we can feed the Adar up at the same time we feed you up.’

I backed away and left them together in the master, seeking Peters who was waiting a discreet distance away.

‘Is the hot water running yet?’

‘Yes, sir. The en-suite is just through there, there are even towels if the young man… forgive me, he looks as if he’s been fighting?’

‘He’s a re-enactor at the Royal Armouries. It is his job. Oh, and Seamus is taking me to look at a car later, a larger Rolls. Can I afford it?’

‘You can afford pretty much anything, Professor.’

‘That’s reassuring. Tell me, how long would it take to fit out the two flats in the main house?’

‘In the same manner as here? Another week or two, depending on your furnishing choices… If I may make a suggestion, there are three bedrooms here, sir. Your son and his friend could move in with you.’

‘Of course. See to it that the other bedrooms are done in high style. One needs to be as good as the master, if you can.’

I heard voices in the bedroom and realised it was safe to interrupt.

‘Govon, if you wish to use the shower, I’m assured it is running properly. Just through there. Legolas, come and meet some trees.’


	14. Amongst Trees Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil has replies on Social Media...

My son came even more alive once he laid his hand on the bark of a tall oak. He smiled as he made the connection to the tree’s sapience, and the sight took me back to his coming of age, watching him move through the woods of home, seeking his affinity to the trees, until he had come to a stop beside a tall, gold-berried rowan.

‘This is me,’ he had said. ‘My tree. Mine. And I am its.’

Previously, on the morning after his begetting day, his mother and I had planted berries and nuts and fruits of all the trees in the forest close to the Fëa-Tree Grove so that on his age day, as he moved, a stripling amongst the saplings, we knew he was right, and the golden berries of the rowan would reflect the gold of his hair...

‘Adar? Want a hand?’

My son’s voice brought me back to the moment.

He had found his way onto the lower branches of the oak, and leaned down to me, but I didn’t need his help. I didn’t let him know that, of course, for every touch, every contact was making him more real, more present.

I joined him in the tree and we sat, side by side, laughing, our legs dangling, surrounded by the glory of the late autumn foliage.

‘If Govon were with us, how well he would blend with the leaves,’ Legolas said. ‘His hair, so beautiful. Adar, it is wonderful here. I can feel myself getting stronger by the breath.’

We were not far from the coach house, or the parked Rolls. We saw Govon come out of the house, saw Seamus point to our tree, and so it was not long before he found us.

‘Coming down?’ he asked.

‘Coming up?’ Legolas replied, and we shuffled along the branch to make space for him.

He leapt lightly up and walked around me as if I were not present, to sit by his fëa-mate. Legolas lay back, draped like a sunshine cat along the branch, his head on Govon’s thigh. I should have felt like an intruder, but instead, I simply felt like part of the family.

‘So, we can have one of these apartments, if we want? Govon asked.

‘You can have both, if you want,’ I said. ‘Or share the coach house with me, if you would prefer.’

Legolas, eyes closed, grinned.

‘What about the nocturnal noises?’ he asked lazily.

‘I will attempt to be discreet, Legolas,’ I said, ‘whenever I have a female guest.’

It was delightful to hear my son giggle like an elfling, even if it was somewhat at my own expense.

‘Of course, we can always install soundproofing; I could tell Peters one of you wishes to learn to play the drums; I’m sure he would believe it of Govon… but do not feel I am trying to impose my will on you; if you like where you live now…’

‘I hate it,’ Legolas said, swinging himself up to sit astride the branch facing us. ‘The city is so dry and harsh. It is a box, a prison, worse than a prison because you can see outside but you cannot reach anything of beauty. I am always cold there, except when… when you are home, Govon, and only then when we are…’

‘Melleth?’ Govon asked. ‘Why have you never said?’

‘We had to live somewhere. It came with the job. And when we first lived there, and I was working, not often alone…’

‘When can we move in?’ Govon turned to look at me. ‘How soon?’

‘If you’re prepared to share the coach house, a few days, I think. I will expedite Peters. In the interim, I am sure we could find a hotel in better surroundings…’

‘Is that all right?’ Legolas asked. ‘Govon, are you sure? What about getting to work?’

‘With the Adar’s Rolls, I’m sure it will be fine.’

He jumped down from the tree and held his arms out.

‘Come on, my fair elf. Let’s pick our bedroom.’

*

I drew Peters to one side while Legolas and Govon romped through the coach house once more.

‘How long before the place is habitable? It is become a matter of some urgency.’

‘It’s habitable now. The power is on, the carpets are down… the white goods and cooker will be installed by the end of the day. You have the keys, Professor.’

‘Yes, indeed. I’ll go and see what my son is up to.’

Govon and Legolas were in the bedroom furthest away from my own, looking out of the window. It faced the rear of the property, and a waist-high wall delineated the boundary. Plants in pots on gravel in front of the wall brightened the vista, but beyond the wood rose, tall and stately, its trees sentinels, gilded with their red and orange bounty of autumn leaves.

‘May we have this one, Adar?’ Legolas asked. His hand was clasped with Govon’s, and he looked bright again, shining.

‘Of course you may,’ I said, glancing around. ‘What do you need for in here?’

There were wardrobes built in, good, light wood, and the house bathroom was next door. The colours were plain, cream and beige – indeed, Govon’s hair was the brightest thing in the room.

‘Just a bed,’ Legolas said with a sly grin at Govon. ‘A good, big one.’

‘Chairs and bedside tables,’ I suggested. ‘Lamps. Lily says lamps are important. And cushions.’

‘We can bring our own bed,’ Govon said. ‘Our flat was unfurnished when we took it, so everything in it is our own. I think we have to give a month’s notice, but we don’t have to live there once we do. Are you sure you want us hanging around?’

‘Do not be ridiculous!’ I raised my eyebrow at him. As of yore, he failed to be quelled by it. ‘Now we have found each other, we need to take care of each other; I can see how much you have done to keep Legolas safe; let me share that trust now. I am becoming aware how alone I have been, too; I am sure I will benefit also.’ 

‘Could we move in now? Today?’ Legolas asked, impatient, childlike again. 

Govon grinned. 

‘We could start packing,’ he said. ‘And move on Saturday afternoon, after I finish work.’

‘And you can look through those brochures and choose anything more you need,’ I told him. ‘Well, then. I will pass on the good news to Peters and enlist his help for Saturday.’

On our way back, Seamus took us to look at the new Rolls he had found. I was not sure I liked it; it was bigger, yes, but more modern and it lacked the flair of my current vehicle. Besides, the additional seats folded down from the back of the compartment separating the chauffeur’s space, and although there was ample leg room, they still looked like folding seats.

‘I rather think I would like to stay with this one,’ I said. ‘Lovely as this model is, and more spacious, still, it does not seem to offer the same degree of comfort. But thank you for the opportunity.’

‘Adar!’ Legolas protested. ‘It’s a wonderful car!’

‘I already have a wonderful car. And a Merc, apparently, if I need more seats. We’ll go back to the city centre flat now, Seamus.’

‘If you wish, my lord, we can convert the rear seat of this car to accommodate three; it would only take a day or so and you could use the Merc meanwhile…’

‘You really don’t like having anyone in the front passenger seat, do you?’

‘It’s nothing personal, sir. Just habit.’

‘Govon can sit on my lap?’ Legolas suggested.

‘Perhaps not,’ I said. ‘I think we will go out for dinner again tonight, Seamus. Please collect us at an appropriate time to eat at around eight o’clock.’

‘Very good, sir.’

The intervening hours were busy as Govon and Legolas began to sort through their apartment. Indeed, Legolas was almost manic in his approach, throwing himself into the process, as keen to throw things away as he was to pack them and Govon hardly knew what to do with the whirlwind his husband had suddenly become.

‘No, don’t throw that away – I love that shirt on you… and you’ll need clothes, after all… Honour-Adar…! Help!’

‘Govon, go and make tea or coffee or such, sit down, choose your furnishings from the brochures; I know you have an eye for detail and design. Legolas, slow down. Pack your clothes, only throw away the damaged or very old or ill-fitting; Govon is right, you will need clothing…’

One sad thing: Legolas found a piece of paper and read it, staring.

‘Melleth? Govon? What is this?’

‘Oh, that.’ Govon took the document away from him. ‘It’s the acceptance of your resignation letter.’

‘I resigned? Why would I do so? I loved my job!’

‘Yes, you did. But then you got ill. And they said you couldn’t go back to the horses, that it would be too physical for you. So we talked about it and you said you didn’t want to go back unless you could work with the horses or the hawks… and they said you had to be alert if you were handling animals so no. You wouldn’t work in the library, you resigned instead.’

‘Was it the blackouts?’

Govon nodded.

‘We called it narcolepsy. They believed it, and said it was probably for the best that you left.’

‘How long ago?’ Legolas asked.

‘I do not know. Three months. Six.’

‘So long?’

‘It doesn’t matter now. You’re back. You are not going to fade,’ Govon told him. ‘Neither of us will let you fade.’

 

Elves are not generally acquisitive, not beyond what we need for our day to day lives. After all, when one lives forever, one could accumulate a lot of clutter if one did not take care. But in this modern world, there were more things to acquire and it seemed easier to gather items about oneself. Govon and Legolas had books and music and films on discs, and these Govon began to sort through into piles.

‘We need boxes,’ he said. ‘For packing into.’

‘I will ask Peters to arrange some,’ I said. ‘Meanwhile, what have you chosen from the brochures?’

I made notes of their selections and went to ready myself for dinner. 

All three of us were ready long before Seamus was due to collect us, so I spent some little time exploring my new social media and email accounts… I had twenty four friend requests, most of them from females with improbable claims about their characteristics. But there was one from Lily which I accepted and two others, one from ‘The Fourth Son’ and one from Elleth of The Medical Museum.

These interested me. No, they excited me.

The Fourth Son had sent a message.

‘If you are he, then you know my other name. We have had cause to be cautious; know who your friends are first…’

I knew him, even without an image.

‘Canadion,’ I replied to the message. ‘Canadion, beloved of Thiriston.’

There was an image for the Medical Museum’s Elleth, a sweet chestnut tree in autumn foliage.

‘Silver birch lost and silver birch sailed along with wild cherry, and where is ernilen, the golden rowan and his hazel, where the stately willow? Sweet chestnut lingering.’

I sent a message back.

‘Nestoril. Ion-nin and his melleth are with the king.’

None of the messages would make sense to strangers, not really, but to me they were shocking, a relief, wonderful news.

‘What is it, Adar?’ my son asked.

‘I think I have found Canadion, but he is being rather cryptic. And Nestoril, I think I have found our healer!’

‘How wonderful!’ Legolas exclaimed. ‘Will we meet up?’

‘I have only just answered them. And if they are wary, then it may take time. But I have hope, now. What if we are not the last? What if it is, really, our old friends?’

‘I wouldn’t go so far as to call Canadion a friend,’ Govon said. ‘Is his cave-troll Thiriston still with him?’

‘I have asked. But I cannot see Canadion surviving so long without him.’ I closed my laptop. ‘Seamus is due shortly. Shall we down to the lobby to meet him?’

*

Legolas and I caught up with Lily at lunch on Friday.

‘Legolas and Govon are coming to Woodford with me; we’re moving tomorrow. So our journeys to work will take longer…’

‘Oh, don’t worry about me,’ Lily said with a wave of her hand. ‘Crispin’s got a Mini Cooper.’

‘And is that likely to be an issue?’ I asked, not quite understanding.

‘No – I mean, he’s happy to drive me around. It’s not quite the Rolls, but still, it’s a classic.’

I gathered from the subsequent conversation that Lily and Crispin were in the early, tentative stages of a romantic involvement. I made encouraging noises while Legolas went to the counter to get more cakes, just in time, for Crispin joined us, necessitating a change of subject.

‘The rest of your documents will be ready for you on Monday, Legolas,’ Crispin said. ‘And, Professor, the press releases are ready to go. We were wondering about some kind of promotional work?’

‘An excellent idea. I suggest we could start with a tour of the local museums, perhaps look into the universities, their libraries…’

‘Libraries?’

I shrugged. 

‘Why not? I have often wished that we had more books here.’

*

I collected the last of my things from Lily’s, helped Legolas and Govon pack. Since Govon was working until five on Saturday, mostly I helped Legolas. Peters had got a removals company to deliver boxes, and promised removals men and van in due course, and had informed me the last of the work on the coach house had been done, but that the new items for Govon and Legolas would take a few days to arrive. 

‘We can manage with our old bedroom stuff for a few days more,’ Legolas said. ‘It will be fine, as long as we can get out of this place!’

He taped up the last of the boxes with determination.

All was ready, the only thing remaining was to oversee the packing of the van and then pick up Govon from the Royal Armouries and get ourselves off the Coach House where Peters was overseeing the unloading for us.

‘I mentioned at work we were moving,’ Govon said as Seamus drove us towards our new home. ‘It started quite a talk in the staff room. Everyone had an opinion about how stressful it was, how long it would take to get sorted out, how tiring… humans, they make everything so complicated!’

That evening, we sent out for food and opened a bottle of wine. It was much inferior to those I remembered, but we drank and ate amongst the scatter of boxes and felt we were home, a family, and outside the house, the trees leaned a little closer in to the windows.

‘We can walk in the woods again at night, as we used,’ Legolas said. ‘Except without fear of spiders.’ 

‘We still need to take care. Other things prowl this world, and not all the bad things have eight legs,’ I warned.

‘Can I ask, Honour-Ada?’ Govon began with a grin. ‘Just where has all this money of yours come from?’

‘Ah. Peters showed me some documents. Apparently, I invested in the railways, and a little while later, in the motor industry… then in something called ‘Apple’… it seemed to build up quite swiftly after that…’

We sat up late, I looking at my social media account again, where there were answers from The Fourth Son and The Elleth – Canadion and, yes, thank the Valar, yes, Nestoril!

I told myself that the real reason I was delighted to know Nestoril was here because of Legolas, because she was such a skilled healer, but the truth was, perhaps, otherwise.

‘Where are you?’ we had asked each other, and found we were not too far apart. Canadion was in York, and Nestoril – she was here, in the same city, in Leeds.

‘I have a phone,’ I sent to her. ‘Call, if you like. If you want.’

‘I would, but for that I need a number…’

This time, I remembered to include it.

Moments only, and the phone warbled. My boys had unpacked the music and were playing it on the new sound machines, so I took the phone through into the master bedroom and sat in a chair near the window, looking out into the darkness, watching the ghosts of the trees waving at me.

‘Is it you, is it really you, my king?’ Nestoril asked.

‘Yes, indeed. But no longer your king, Ness. I am a Professor now, apparently. And a Lord.’

‘How wonderful! And I am a doctor. But currently, I work in a museum…’

‘And I. Perhaps it is where we go – museums, libraries…’

‘Stately houses,’ Nestoril added. 

‘Really?’

‘Indeed. Merlinith was housekeeper at a place named Tatton Hall… Who is with you?’

‘I have Govon and Legolas.’

‘Valar be praised! I have been so worried for you all!’

‘What is this about Merlinith? Is she here, is she still…?’

‘Oh, yes, indeed! From Tatton Hall, she went to Manchester, where there is a museum of needlework, or some such. Her friend, too, is still here... Araspen?’

‘I remember Araspen,’ I said. I didn’t really care about anything other than the fact that I was listening to Nestoril’s voice after all this time, but made myself ask politely, ‘and they are together, still?’

‘I think they do not work together, just cohabit. Merlinith and I exchange messages every few days. Govon will be pleased.’

Yes. Govon would be delighted. His sister, still here, still safe.

‘How are you?’ I asked. 

‘I am well, I am content, I am safe enough. My work is interesting. And you?’

‘I am well, I think. I have had phases where time has passed for me…’

‘Oh, Thranduil! That does not sound good!’

‘I am better now. I found a friend, and that led me to a solicitor’s firm which has managed my affairs. And through them, I found Govon, and Govon has been caring for Legolas… but he, my son, he has been ill. I think… I think he was starting to fade.’

‘And you, Thranduil, mellon-nin? Your phases? How long since the last one?’

‘Since I came awake, only one. And it might have been reverie. But it is Legolas I am worried about.’

‘Is he with someone constantly? You do not leave him alone?’

‘He is with me and Govon and we are keeping him close, and I have a house, and there are flats available in the next house. You could live there, in one of the apartments, if you wished.’

‘I do have a place. But it is very... not in the best of neighbourhoods… I would love to be nearer to you. To be… to be with you…’

‘Oh, Nestoril… we – I have missed you so much. Can I send my car for you? Can I come for you, tonight?’

‘Not tonight; it is too late… and you will not find the address…’

‘Very well. Tomorrow, I will come in the morning, while Legolas and Govon are having time together, if that is all right with you.’

‘Do you mean it? Thranduil, do you really mean it?’

‘Nestoril, of course I do! Of course I mean it… now, what is your address and Seamus and I will come for you?’

‘Meet me, instead. I will pack a case and be outside the cemetery gates at 9.30. It is opposite the hospital.’ She gave me the address. ‘Oh, Thranduil, I could talk all night to you. But, if I am to pack…’

‘Yes. But you can call later, if you wish.’

I stayed in my chair for a few more moments until a little noise from my phone alerted me to a text message. It was the address of the place Merlinith was working. ‘She uses the same name, but has adopted ‘Wood’ as her surname. I am so glad.’

I replied with thanks and the same sentiment; I was glad, too, delighted, and I went back into the sitting room to tell Govon the good news.

He and Legolas were rather busy with each other’s faces, entwined in each other’s arms, and I had to clear my throat to let them know I was present.

They broke apart, Govon looking sheepish.

‘I spoke with Nestoril,’ I said. ‘Our dear friend Ness. And, Govon, there is news. Merlinith is still here, your sister, and her friend Araspen, too…’

‘Merlinith? Here, where? Where, here?’

‘Somewhere called Manchester. She is working at a museum. Nestoril has a contact address for her…’

Govon jumped up and whooped, pulled Legolas to his feet and swung him around, hugging and laughing and kissing him.

‘Oh, my sister is still around!’

Legolas laughed back.

‘Melleth-nin, I never doubted it for a moment; your sister was always around in Mirkwood, was she not?’

‘This is wonderful!’

‘Yes, indeed,’ I said. ‘Wonderful. Araspen is with her, also. Well, I will leave you to enjoy the music and the sitting room and the kitchen… and the privacy of your bedroom too, if you manage to wait long enough to get there. Goodnight.’


	15. York

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil finds Ness, summons the Merc and takes everyone to York...

‘We are going where, my lord?’ Seamus asked next morning.

‘The cemetery gates opposite the hospital. It is to pick up a friend of mine. A Dr Nestoril. My son and Govon are staying here and unpacking.’

‘Very good, sir.’

‘Thank you, Seamus. You are an exceptional chauffeur.’

‘Thank you very much, sir. I am an exceptional chauffeur with the Merc as well.’

I laughed as we drove off.

‘Well, perhaps I will let you drive the Merc to York with us in it. Would you like that?’

‘I rather think I might, my lord.’

It was not far, really, perhaps thirty minutes in the car, and I saw signs for the hospital before I saw the cemetery gates. Outside, dressed neatly in a dark blue dress and hat with a blue floral brooch pinned to it over her glorious chestnut hair, Nestoril was waiting.

She smiled as we pulled in and she recognised me. Seamus jumped out and saluted, taking the case from her and holding the door so she could slide into the seat next to me.

‘You look wonderful, Ness,’ I said. ‘Unchanged.’

‘Thank you, Professor King. I could say the same for you, but it would be a lie. You’ve been neglecting yourself.’

‘Perhaps a little. But no more. No longer.’

‘Well, a good Sunday dinner would be a start…’

‘Possibly. Seamus? Do you know any good places for Sunday dinner?’

‘Indeed I do, sir. But for the four of you, I will have to fetch the Merc.’

‘Will it take long?

‘Perhaps a half hour round trip from your house, my lord. The garage is not far, and I can recommend several excellent restaurants…’

‘Hmm. And how long to get to York?’ I asked.

‘From your house, my lord, under an hour, easily. Depending on which car, of course…’

‘Very well, then. Drop us at home, go and fetch this Merc of which you speak, and collect us again after.’

‘Today? Oh, very good, my lord!’

In the seat next to me, Nestoril sighed and leaned against my shoulder. I found I was smiling.

‘Happy, Ness?’

‘Much more so than I have been for a long while. Thranduil – these blank spaces in your memory…?’

‘There are many. I do not remember much with clarity, not without prompting or reverie…’

Nestoril sneaked a small, delicate hand into mine, entwining her fingers with my own. It felt pleasant, the contact, the warmth. After a moment, she sighed.

‘Well, that was obviously not enough of a prompt,’ she said, her tone regretful. ‘I’m sorry.’

She began to disentangle our fingers; I hastened to stop her.

‘Ness! Don’t. I… it’s I who should apologise. This… I do not remember, but there is a familiarity, and I do not wish for you to stop…’

‘Well, now,’ she said with a cheeky glint in her eye which I certainly did remember, ‘that’s what you always used to say…’

We found ourselves smiling, she at her memory, me for the delight of a small, warm, hand in my own.

‘I remember ’93,’ I said. ‘Northumberland.’

‘Yes? Dragons?’

‘You were there?’

‘Not far away. And you have nothing since?’

‘There is a diary, in my hand, writ at intervals since then. But I have only the briefest of flashes of memory – not even that, mostly just images.’

‘I wonder you survived, with so much loss, then,’ she said.

‘I think – I fear – I may have been close to fading, I confess.’

It was horrible, dreadful to say it, admit it aloud. I shivered and Nestoril pressed closer against me, squeezing my hand.

‘But you didn’t fade, Thranduil. You’re still here.’

‘Yes.’ I looked down and realised I remembered, that I had never forgotten, how lovely her eyes were. ‘And so are you.’

*

Had I been Govon, I almost would have been jealous of the hug Nestoril gave my son. In fact, I was almost jealous myself.

‘Oh, penneth, how lovely to see you!’ she exclaimed, hugging him and rocking him in her arms as if she were his Naneth. ‘You look much too thin!’

‘You’re looking good, Ness,’ he said as she finally released him. 

‘Govon, dear friend, your turn! Come here!’

While she embraced my Honour-son, I found the coffee-making device and set to work. Govon, finally released, came over to me.

‘Let me do this, Adar-in-Honour. You keep Nestoril from mauling my fëa-mate, yes?’

Ness smiled at me, giving a little shoulder-shrug of happiness to go with her sudden bright smile.

‘It is so lovely to see you all together again. To be together with you again.’

‘If it’s not too much, I thought we would go out for lunch,’ I said. ‘Ness suggested it.’

‘Well, I said Sunday lunch, that’s the extent of my contribution… but I heard York discussed…’

‘Really?’ Govon brought over a tray with the coffee. ‘All of us? In the Rolls?’

‘No, I have finally capitulated and allowed Seamus to go to fetch the Merc; it seats more,’ I explained to Nestoril. ‘Seamus dislikes having anyone in the passenger seat next to him.’

‘Why York?’ Govon asked. ‘Not that I mind; a run out in the Merc sounds fun…’

‘I think Canadion might be there, with Thiriston, perhaps. So we may be able to start looking for him. Pass me my laptop, will you? I will see if I can send a message…’

Difficult to know if Canadion would find my message, let alone reply to it; I was not quite used to the workings of the Book of the Faces yet.

‘Is there somewhere I can put my case?’ Nestoril asked when we’d finished our coffee.

‘The guest room is through here…’

I saw her raise her eyebrows as she got to her feet; I picked up her case and followed her.

‘Guest room?’ she queried, once I had thrown open the door and set her case down on the converting sofa bed from Govon and Legolas’ flat.

‘Well, the alternative is sharing with me, until the apartment in the main hall can be…’

I faltered. The look in her eye was tolerantly amused.

‘Sharing with you is just fine,’ she said. ‘After all, it wouldn’t be for the first time…’

I wished I could remember.

‘Whatever you want, dear Ness,’ I said.

She reached up to stroke the side of my face.

‘Still so beautiful,’ she said. ‘What I would like is to throw the boys out for the afternoon and remind you why I would expect to share your room, my dear friend. But it seems that I have fallen out of your mind a little.’

I covered her hand with my own, moved it away from my face, kissed the pulse point inside her wrist. She gasped.

‘Well, it seems you’ve not forgotten quite everything!’

‘Adar!’ Legolas called. ‘I think Seamus is here!’

The Merc was impressive. Given it wasn’t the Rolls, still it was smart and comfortable, if not quite as stylish. And Seamus was delighted to open doors and wait for us to get in. I had Nestoril next to me, Govon the other side and Legolas on a fold-down seat facing him and we set off.

Soon leaving the city behind, the landscape rolled out in soft watercolours of golden fields and blue skies, a long and straight road out towards York. The earth of the fields was rich red and brown, like the colours of Silvan hair, and we bowled along at an impressive rate.

‘Where to, my lord?’ Seamus asked some forty minutes later, as we rolled under an impressive ancient arch into the city.

‘Somewhere good for lunch, central if you can. Then take a couple of hours for yourself, I’ll call when we want picking up.’

Seamus dropped us outside a grandly fronted hotel and held the door for us. The doorman outside took note of the parade we made and came forward to usher us inside.

‘A shame there is no way to connect to the Book of Face,’ I murmured as we sat nursing drinks before being shown to our table. ‘I could have looked for an answer from Canadion…’

‘Give me that phone of yours, Honour-Ada,’ Govon said. ‘It’s got everything you need… there. Password and off you go.’

And there was a message from Canadion saying yes, he and Thiriston had free time today as I had asked and what did I suggest they do about it? Messaging back the name of the hotel, I sent also my phone number. 

It rang within moments.

‘My king?’

The voice was familiar, musical as Canadion’s tone had always been, but hushed, tentative.

‘Canadion. Would you and your fëa-mate care to join us for lunch?’

‘That’s very kind, sire. Who is ‘us’?’

‘Nestoril, Govon, Legolas and I,’ I replied, not commenting on his razor-sharp intellect or lack thereof; he had always, I remembered, been decorative rather than intellectual. ‘We have not yet been seated so if you will join us, we will renegotiate a larger table…’ 

I told him the name of the hotel.

‘Oh, I know where that one is! Half an hour, my king.’

‘Agreed. I am sure you will recognise us. You’re asking for Professor Thranduil King’s party, if you need to.’

The call ended, I lifted my head to attract attention from the already-most attentive staff.

‘We will be joined by two other associates, so the table must accommodate us all. About thirty minutes.’

‘Very good, sir. More drinks?’

‘Could I have tea?’ Nestoril asked.

‘Good idea. Yes, tea for the lady, double espresso for myself, a cappuccino for my son and a latte for my son-in-law.’

‘Certainly.’

We relaxed over the hot drinks. I couldn’t keep my eyes off Nestoril, and she did her fair share of looking back. But she also took in the surroundings, the atmosphere of the hotel, the clientele.

‘There’s a lot of money here, Thranduil,’ she said.

‘Oh, I’m assured I can afford it. I can afford anything, apparently.’

She laughed, and was still laughing when a little bustle at the door way drew her attention, which drew mine…

Canadion and Thiriston were in the doorway. To my great surprise (and Govon’s amusement), Canadion was wearing a dress in shades of blue and green, with long sleeves and billowing skirts. It suited him, although I suspected a little judicious padding had taken place around the region of the bosom but, in all honesty, he did rather look like a human woman; his features had always been delicate, even for an elf. His fëa-mate Thiriston, however, still looked more like a cave-troll than a person.

‘Do not laugh,’ I told Govon. ‘Do not.’

I got to my feet and walked over to greet them.

To my utter astonishment, Thiriston dropped to one knee and Canadion curtseyed.

‘Sire.’

‘My king.’

‘Rise, both of you. It is gratifying to see you, my friends, but times have moved on. I am Professor King now.’

They got up and Canadion hugged Thiriston with delight.

‘It is, him it really is,’ I heard him whisper.

‘Shush, penneth. Of course it’s him.’

Strangely enough, the other customers hadn’t batted any of their eyelids at the double obeisance, possibly because Thiriston tended not to encourage stares – to his face, at least – or because the rest of the clientele moved in exalted circles themselves. A waiter appeared and bowed, perhaps more deeply than before.

‘Your table, sir. If your other guests would care for drinks…?’

‘A single malt for me,’ Thiriston said. ‘And champagne for the lady.’

‘Make that for both ladies,’ I said.

Lunch really was very good. After an initial lull during which we covered with the niceties of orders and drinks and greetings, I learned a little more of the reason behind Canadion’s garb. We had slipped into Silvan as soon as the orders had been placed, and felt able to talk more freely in our own tongue.

‘For a time, it was all right,’ Canadion said. ‘But then there began… they began to see us as unnatural. Remember the bad old days when such as we thought being called ‘afflicted’ was a kindness? And other lands punished human males who were like that? This world went through the same stages. It was easier to hide in a dress than to dissemble all the time…’

‘It’s true,’ Govon said, shaking his head. ‘The dissembling was a killer. We lived away from people when we could, pretended to be brothers. Sometimes they believed it.’

‘Once, we were chased through the streets…’ Canadion shuddered at the memory. ‘But for Thiriston, I do not know what would have happened…’

‘Well. But for me, it wouldn’t have been a problem would it?’

‘So this is easier. And I get to wear nice shoes, and use handbags…’

‘Oh, shoes and handbags are a definite advantage of the modern world,’ Nestoril said. ‘I don’t know what I would do without my Radley Bags…’

‘I like Kipling,’ Canadion said. ‘I tell Thiriston the monkeys remind me of him…’

Thiriston rolled his eyes and I found myself repressing a smile.

‘What have you been doing for work?’ I asked. ‘Museums seem popular.’

‘Yes. We fit in there. We two are at the Jorvik Centre. Viking re-enactment…’

‘Oddly enough, I encountered Vikings for real… there were dragons, first…’

‘Yes. We all remember the dragons. We certainly knocked the stuffing out of them! Was it wise, do you think, to deliberately disband after that?’

Was that what we had done? Was that why we were now so scattered, disparate, lost?

‘I didn’t like the idea at the time,’ Legolas said. ‘But it was getting difficult. One or two of us together could pass without too much notice, but a group of us? We’d have attracted too much of the wrong sort of attention. No, it wasn’t easy, but it was probably for the best...’

‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing,’ I said firmly. ‘We have to look to our present, to our future. Are you two doing well?’

‘We’re all right now. Canadion gets to pretend to be my wife, in a Viking dress and everything. I get to wield a sword and shout Yarrgh at the visitors… who else do you know about?’

‘Merlinith,’ Nestoril said. ‘We exchange greetings every few days; I have only just been found by our king, so we have not had chance to connect her and Govon yet.’

‘Erestor and Arveldir sailed,’ I said. ‘That is, they went on a liner and stole one of the lifeboats. It vanished without trace, so we believe they found the Straight Path.’

‘Calithilon in touch, couple of decades ago,’ Thiriston said. ‘He and Erthor had something going, a retreat, something, up in the very north…’

Food arrived and we applied ourselves to it, the conversation becoming more sporadic as we ate.

‘My prince, you don’t look so well,’ Canadion said presently. ‘Have you been ill?’

‘I’m better now,’ Legolas said firmly. ‘But I was very glad when we found my father.’

‘Where are you living these days?’ Thiriston asked.

‘We’re all in Leeds. We were in different parts, but my Adar has a good house and apartments in a big building next door…’

‘We’re all under the same roof now, Thranduil’s roof,’ Nestoril said. ‘And I tonight I will feel safe for the first time in years.’

‘Really, Ness?’ I asked, appalled.

‘Really.’ She nodded firmly. ‘Did not I mention my flat is in rather a rough part of town? Oh, I can still bend back a finger with the best of them, and elbow the groin, but it is so tedious having to…’

‘But you shouldn’t have to; what is this world become? My friends, for all the money I seem to have, all the ease it can buy, I am not sure this environment a good place for elves any longer.’

‘I think you may be right,’ Govon said. ‘We’ve been lucky. It makes you wonder who else hasn’t been…’

We fell silent for a moment. So many lives had touched ours, so many we had touched. Where were they now?

‘Come,’ Nestoril said briskly. ‘We are reunited. We are together. We are survivors. And one day we will all be together again, on the far side of the Sundering Seas.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Thiriston said, so we all raised our glasses and drank a toast to surviving. ‘But the thing is: what do we do now?’

I took a breath and found myself replying, although I did not really know where the thoughts came from even as I expressed them.

‘We try to find any others who may still be lingering; they may respond to us where they may have been alarmed to be approached by a firm such as Adrian’s, perhaps. We call them home. We make safe places for them, and then…’ I looked around the table as the idea, so obvious really, struck me with the full force of its rightness. ‘And then, when we are sure we have found all that we can, we find a ship. And we will take them home. It would be the last ship, but it would be our ship.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At the time of writing, the Jorvik Centre was a mainstay of the York tourist attractions. At the time of posting, however, it's closed due to significant flooding in the city over the winter.
> 
> *  
> Other social media platforms, and makes of handbag, are available.


	16. 'The Last Ship Ever...'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil's idea is discussed...

It took a moment for the notion to sink in. Even for me, and it had been I voiced the thought, I who had suggested it with no notion of how it could be achieved. But still, Nestoril nodded, and Canadion’s eyes were wide and hopeful.

‘The last one,’ he said. ‘The last ship ever.’

‘In the interim, Canadion, Thiriston, there are two apartments,’ I said. ‘Both are pleasant, but neither are furnished. If you wished to come back with us, I am sure we could sort something out… I am told the rooms can be fully liveable within a week…’

‘We’re good, thank you, where we are.’ Thiriston said.

‘Are we?’ Canadion asked. ‘Are we, really?’

Thiriston scowled and I had the feeling we were participating of a much larger question.

‘Whatever you wish,’ I said. ‘I am no longer a king with a realm; I am a remnant of a once-powerful kingdom, trying to survive and seeking to bring all its surviving elements together. But I am not trying to rule you, to impose my will on you. It is merely an invitation, a suggestion; there are two apartments. They are available, if you want either of them.’

‘Our jobs are here,’ Thiriston said. 

‘Very well. But if you would like to come and see the apartments, if you would like to stay, just for the night or for a few nights, you would be most welcome.’

‘I don’t really like my job,’ Canadion said. ‘It is one thing to wear nice clothes to go to work in, but then when we get there I have to change... and it is another thing entirely to dress in old rags with an itchy blonde dirty wig and… and it smells, it is meant to be realistic, so they made it smell like Vikings. Only they made it smell like the smelliest Vikings ever, worse than orcs, and, it is all very well for you, Thiriston, you get to shout Yarrgh at people outside and lure them in to the exhibit, I have to talk about milking goats. And then there was the day when... you see, the visitors go round in these little cart-things, and the electrics failed on the carts and the computers all died, and so the animated goats got stuck and everyone was talking to me and asking me questions instead about everything and… and I am not happy.’

‘So, you are not happy. I am sorry. I am not particularly delighted myself, especially not with the stick-on beard and whiskers. But how are we to live?’

‘There are vacancies at the Royal Armouries,’ Govon said. ‘They’re taking on re-enactors who can fight… Thiriston, you would make a great Roman… no beards necessary, either...’

‘And I happen to need a secretary in my new role,’ I said. ‘Canadion, you could wear your nice shoes and bring your lovely bags to work.’

‘I don’t know,’ Thiriston said. ‘We’re used to this, now. We’re settled, safe.’

‘But equally, you would be safe amongst us,’ Nestoril said. ‘Thranduil has a car and a driver. You would be able to get to work in Leeds easily.’

The big Silvan shook his head and I wondered what was really wrong. He and Canadion had been so close, so loving, but there were definite undertones now that all was not well. Just for a moment, I reprised my role as the Elvenking to address Thiriston directly.

‘Your penneth is unhappy, Thiriston,’ I said. ‘I wonder that you cannot see it, that it must be pointed out to you. But the Thiriston I knew of old would have seen for himself. The Thiriston I knew would not have let it happen.’

‘The Thiriston you knew, my king, hadn’t been through what we have.’ He sighed and looked at his fëa-mate. ‘Do you really want to leave?’

‘Only here. Not you,’ Canadion said, his voice trembling. ‘If you want to stay, I won’t go.’

Thiriston threw his hands up into the air.

‘Well, for you, then, let’s go and look the place over.’

Canadion gave a girly squeal and threw his arms around Thiriston.

‘Yes? Oh, thank you!’

‘You’re welcome. Now, put me down before you upset the nice king.’

I laughed. I wasn’t sure all was well between these two, still, but all was well enough, I thought, for the moment.

‘Do you need to get anything from your lodgings first?’ I asked. ‘We can ask Seamus to take you there on the way…’

‘No, we’re good,’ Thiriston said firmly. ‘We’ll come with you and look around… but how do we get back home again after?’

I shrugged. ‘Train, I suppose. Or taxi. I will fund it, if so; it’s my suggestion that you come, anyway. If by train, Seamus will drive you to the station.’

‘Who is Seamus?’

‘My chauffeur.’

‘Thranduil has two cars,’ Govon said. ‘We’re in the Merc today; it holds more passengers that the Rolls…’

‘Three,’ I corrected. ‘Three cars. But the Bentley is in the workshop and, besides, it is new money.’

Thiriston shook his head.

‘You really can afford to take care of us all, can’t you?’

‘Only if you will permit it,’ I said.

*  
We had lingered over the dregs of our drinks, we’d consumed an inordinate amount of food, and around us the hotel was easing as the afternoon wore on. We moved to a comfortable lounge area, ordered more coffee and tea, and I phoned Seamus.

‘About half an hour, please, Seamus. We have drinks. There will be six of us to go back.’

‘Very good, my lord.’

I settled the bill and presently the doorman came in and announced that the car for Lord Thranduil, Professor King, was waiting. Eyes followed us out. Nestoril took my arm, Thiriston took Canadion’s hand and looked down at him, smiling from the eyes again, and I began to think we would be well.

We were a little more cramped on the journey back. Canadion and Thiriston would not be separated, so I took one of the three folding down seats, facing Nestoril, and with Legolas and Govon next to me. It amused me that Seamus tipped his hat to Canadion.

‘Good afternoon, miss,’ he said and, taking in Thiriston’s proprietorial growl, ‘sir.’

‘Back to Woodford, please, Seamus,’ I said.

‘Very good, sir. Was everything satisfactory, my lord?’

‘Yes, the food was excellent, the service good.’

We drove back and Ness and my boys went into the coach house while I took Canadion and Thiriston on the tour. In the top floor apartment, Canadion stroked the walls and looked out of one of the windows down onto the woods, leaning against the window frame. I saw a tear escape from his eye, smudging his make-up – mascara, Lily used it, mascara, that was the name of it. Suddenly, he lowered his head and began to shake with sobs. 

‘Ai, Valar…!’ Thiriston pushed past me to get to his spouse, taking him in his arms and stroking his hair, gently shushing him. ‘Come, penneth. It’s not worth the tears, nothing is.’

I left them there and went to stare up through the kitchen skylight at the darkening blue of the sky until Thiriston came out to seek me.

‘We want this flat. We want it now. We don’t want to go back to York.’

‘Is there nothing you want to collect?’

‘Well, there are things we might need… but… I understand now. I can’t take Canadion back to that, I won’t.’

‘I can arrange to have things collected and brought for you. Or you can start new with everything. For tonight… Well, here are your keys. This is for the door to the apartment, and this one is the main downstairs door. We can make room for you in the coach house tonight… or if you wanted to sleep here, I think there is a sofa bed we can move across…’

‘One thing at a time. We can have this?’

‘Of course. There is another apartment which is rather grander, but it is downstairs…’

‘Canadion likes this one.’

Canadion came through from the other room, wiping his eyes.

‘That’s settled, then. Welcome to your new home, Canadion, Thiriston. May it be blessed for you. Now, would you like to come back to the coach house with me? I think one or other of my family will have made tea or coffee for us.’

They had also found biscuits, although why any of us needed more food I could not have determined. I drew Nestoril to one side while Legolas was talking to Canadion and Thiriston.

‘Want to sleep in my bed tonight, Ness?’

‘I thought you’d never ask! I take it you’ve not had some overwhelming awakening of memory though?’

‘No. I am sorry, not yet. It’s more to do with Canadion and Thiriston. They want the flat and I was going to ask Govon if we could move the sofa bed for them… I’m quite happy on the sofa…’

‘You’ll find it cramped, then, for if that’s where you are, it’s where I will be also.’

‘Indeed? I’m honoured, and flattered, and maybe just a little worried…’

She laughed.

‘No, do not be! We can simply share the room, share the bed, share the space. I do not think Canadion is quite well, but how to ask…’

‘He reminds me of how Legolas looked at first. He has been unhappy, I think, and it would be entirely in his nature to say nothing lest he worry Thiriston.’

‘Well, I will do what I can, if he needs help. I’ll get my suitcase, I think, and take it through while no-one is paying attention.’

After we had had tea and biscuits, and Govon had formally offered to loan out the sofa bed, he and Thiriston moved it over into the main house, Nestoril and Canadion following with bedding. Several of the other residents came out to see what was going on, but not to offer help, I noted. 

Still, it gave me chance to see some of them for the first time.

‘Haven’t you just moved into the coach house?’ one said to me.

‘Yes, indeed, with my family.’

‘Well, we like things quiet here. The owner of the building is quite particular who comes in.’

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I know.’

Ness and Canadion stayed in the flat to make up the sofa bed, she said, and Thiriston and I went back to the coach house.

‘Until you are settled with whatever else you need, you are welcome to use the coach house facilities,’ I told Thiriston. ‘You are indeed most welcome.’

‘I didn’t know,’ he said abruptly. ‘Something’s been going on at work, one of the managers, and I didn’t know. Penneth didn’t tell me. He hated it. Why didn’t he tell me?’

‘Because he didn’t want to let you down. He loves you, even if you are more of a cave-troll than an elf, it’s still plain to see. We do strange things around those we love, and we convince ourselves we’re helping them. But sometimes, we’re wrong. Sometimes, it’s sensible to ask.’

‘Thank you for coming for us.’

‘You’re welcome, Thiriston. We – the others of us – have work tomorrow. I am happy to have Canadion come with me and pretend to be my secretary, if it will help. Or he may simply stay here with you, if you wish. Pick furniture, there is a book… let me know if you want anything collecting, I will arrange with my assistant.’

‘You’ve been very good, my king.’

‘No longer your king.’

‘No, sire; you’ll always be our king.’

I clapped him on the shoulder and went back to the sitting room to open my laptop and look to see if any more Silvans were appearing in my friend requests. Another seven more young women of impossible proportions were begging my friendship, but not one pointed ear tip…

I supposed it was only to be expected, but after my initial success, I had rather wished for more.

The evening drew on. I found storm lanterns – the power was still off in the top floor apartment – a bottle of wine and some glasses, and gave them to Thiriston.

‘Go and have a small, private party in your new flat. Anything else you need, come and ask. We’ll be leaving at around 8 am – so come for seven if you want breakfast - but you have my phone number now if you need to get in touch after that.’

‘I’m grateful.’

‘I know. But you don’t have to be.’

I saw them out and returned to the sitting room to find Legolas and Govon clearing away the tea things from earlier.

‘If breakfast is going to be at seven, then Govon and I need to go to bed, Adar,’ Legolas said, careful to keep his expression neutral. ‘Goodnight.’

And then Ness and I were alone. And it was our turn.

Nestoril came over to me to stand close, to lean into my chest and put her arms round me in a light and gentle hug.

‘The boys showed me your diary earlier. All those years, lost… Give yourself time,’ she said. ‘Be gentle with yourself. You’ve been through so much.’

‘Oh, Ness…’

She kissed my cheek and headed for the master bedroom.

‘Just let me have a few minutes to clear the bathroom,’ she said. ‘I won’t be long.’

I used the house bathroom for my own preparations and lingered in the living room until the bedroom door clicked open.

When I went in, Nestoril was sitting up in the bed, wearing a pale blue night robe, silken, delicate, but still demure and she patted the other side invitingly.

‘I will be but a moment,’ I said, and, indeed, I needed only to snatch sleepwear from the wardrobe and to change into it. 

I would not normally have bothered, but tonight it seemed appropriate, considerate. Nestoril raised an eyebrow at the sleepwear – pyjamas, but only the trousers. Her eyes lifted, grazed my body, lingered on my face.

‘You still have scarring to your shoulder, after all this time.’

‘Yes. It doesn’t bother me. And you saved my face with your Silvan tricks, you witch.’

She laughed. 

‘Well, come to bed, then,’ she said.

I slid between the covers. The mattress was soft and supportive, the pillows deep, the sheets crisp and cool and I sighed as I lay back and felt my body cradled and relaxing. As I found my ideal position, Nestoril moved and spread herself across my chest, her head on my shoulder, her arm across my body so her hand lay on my opposite arm, her silken hair a cascade across us both. She raised her head to softly kiss my cheek.

‘Relax, Thranduil. I’ve waited this long to be with you again, I can wait a little longer for you to remember how we were.’

‘How long has it been, Ness? For you?’

She sighed.

‘Not tonight. I don’t want to go through all that tonight. Now, the least you can do is kiss me goodnight.’

I smiled and kissed the top of her head.

‘Goodnight, Ness. Sleep well.’

‘Even if I do not, staying awake will be more pleasant now. Goodnight.’

*

My reverie that night took strange paths. I remembered… I remembered, oh, my first love, she who bore me three fine sons but who would not be my queen, but only my consort, and I remembered my next love, her gentleness, her kindness, her sweetness. 

My transition from reverie was abrupt.

Sweet Ness.

Ness.

My sweet Ness.

It was she, Nestoril, my second love, my solace, my dear friend, my comfort. And it had been she who had remonstrated with me about my sons, after my consort had died.

It was always Nestoril who remonstrated with me.

I had loved her.

I was quite sure I loved her still.

I remembered…

Once, at the very start of our more-than-friendship phase, something went awry, and I had not known, fool that I was, what I had done. In an attempt to mend matters, I sent her flowers, one every few days, each one different. And the last idea I had, the final thought I could draw on, it thawed her, and all was well.

But that had been so long ago.

She was still lying across me, and I put my arm around her to gently embrace her. She sighed and snuggled. Taking it as a sign she was awake, or near waking, I stroked her hair.

‘I gave you flowers,’ I said.

‘You did. I still have the little blue pin; it became my anchorage, when I thought I was losing touch.’

‘Good. I loved you, Ness.’

‘So you did. Although you were never terribly good at saying so.’

‘And I was going to continue by saying, I still do. But if I was not in the habit of it…’

‘Well, perhaps the long years have changed us, just enough.’ 

Somehow, I wasn’t quite sure how, whether she began it or I did, our lips met and presently the straps of her nightgown slid down, and my sleepwear was gone, and although my mind might not remember all that had passed between us, our bodies remembered exactly how they had fitted together, and all was well between us.


	17. Secretary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil has a scare and acquires a new secretary...

Waking again later, in the cool blue of the early morning, I toyed lightly with Nestoril’s hair and debated whether there was time to indulge in the celebration of our newly-reconstructed relationship again or if we should begin preparing to move when the decision was taken out of my hands when there was a frantic knocking on the door.

‘Thranduil! It’s Legolas, I can’t wake him! Help me, please!’

‘Be calm, Govon. I’m on my way.’

I grabbed the discarded sleepwear while beside me Nestoril made hurried adjustments to her own garments. By the time I got out of the door, Govon had left, gone back to his room, and I raced after him.

He was kneeling by my son, shaking him, talking, pleading with him to wake. Legolas’ eyes stared, glazed with reverie or something far more serious.

‘Govon, dear, let me see,’ Nestoril’s calm voice came from behind me. ‘Thranduil, take Govon into the living room…’

‘No!’ Govon protested.

‘Well, to the doorway, then. Come, how can I help if you will not let me near him?’

‘Come, ion, let Nestoril work.’ I had to physically lay hands on Govon to encourage him to step away, but eventually, he let me pull him back. ‘You know he’s in the best hands.’

Nestoril spoke softly, staring intently into Legolas’ eyes, taking his hand and patting it. She sat back for a moment and then placed her hands on either side of my son’s face, beginning to murmur an incantation of soft Silvan words. Govon clung uncharacteristically to me, fear bringing him to where there was some comfort, I supposed. 

Finally Ness sat back and turned to us, smiling and nodding.

‘His fëa is present, and strong; he is just very deeply in reverie…’

‘Thank Eru,’ Govon muttered.

‘It is as if he has had no proper rest for far too long,’ Ness went on. ‘So it is understandable that his first really relaxed reverie would be extensive.’

‘I wonder whether that could be what happened to me,’ I said. ‘I had… woken, I suppose… and spoke to Lily – a human woman I know, a friend, Ness – and we had gone for lunch, and were going to meet again… and I remembered where there was a key and the case and found my small stock of treasures and… and my transitional object, and as I was looking at my object, the phone rang. And it was three days later.’

‘Three days!’ Govon protested.

‘I am sure Legolas will not need anything like so long,’ Ness said. ‘It’s part of his recovery from the exhaustion of coming so close to fading, but he should wake soon.’

‘How soon?’ Govon asked. 

Nestoril raised her eyebrows at him and reached out to take a strand of Legolas’ flaxen hair between her fingers and gave three sharp tugs that made us both wince. My son’s body jumped, he gasped and flailed.

‘Govon? Melleth, what…?’

Ness patted his hand.

‘Govon couldn’t wake you,’ she said. ‘I’ll leave you to grumble at him about it.’

As she passed Govon, she reached out and grabbed my hand, tugging me after her.

‘Let’s leave them to it, shall we?’

*

I began the task of making coffee and tea while Nestoril busied herself exploring the kitchen, seeking the components of breakfast.

‘There isn’t a lot here,’ she said. ‘Not for six of us… have none of you learned food shopping yet?’

‘I have barely been awake long enough to need to,’ I reminded her. ‘However, I have mastered the art of ordering take away food…’

‘And is it possible to order take away breakfast?’

I found her some of the leaflets.

‘Take a look through.’

Before I’d even finished speaking, she’d tugged them from my hand and began scanning.

‘Goodness, you can indeed! I like the sound of this place… you order, this, and this… better request four of each so there’s a choice…’

I did as I was bid, raising a mental eyebrow at the ease with which she gave me orders. Done, the food promised, I went back to my tea and coffee duties.

‘If you don’t mind, I’ll go and dress,’ I said. ‘The order will be in about fifteen minutes, apparently.’

‘Good. I’ll use the house bathroom, I don’t think the boys will notice… let me get some things to change into…’ She stopped and smiled suddenly. ‘Do you know, this is so nice for me? We have never lived together, never shared a house.’

‘No, I suppose we have not… should I worry?’

‘I don’t think so. I used to like you visiting my rooms… but to not have to worry about advisors turning up or assistant healers with emergencies…’

My phone rang just as Nestoril was holding suit jackets against me to decide which I should wear today.

‘Thranduil.’

‘My king, Thiriston and I would like to come over, if we may.’

‘Of course, Canadion. The door will be open for you.’

Nestoril, meanwhile, reorganised my choice of clothes, grey suit, blue shirt, grey suede ankle boots.

‘There. Hurry up, food will be here in a minute.’

She had chosen to wear brown shades today, a russet blouse which set off her hair and a dark black-coffee coloured skirt.

‘Ness, you look very fine.’

‘As do you.’ She smiled, eyes crinkling. ‘Thank you.’

Our breakfast guests arrived a few minutes before breakfast and Legolas and Govon made their appearance in time to greet them. Over the food I tried to get an idea of what was needed for the day.

‘I need to be at work for 8.45,’ Nestoril said. ‘I still have time to get the bus…’

‘No need. We can take the Merc if not the Rolls…’

‘There really is a Rolls?’ Canadion asked.

‘Yes, but Seamus disapproves of passengers next to him, so it will probably be the Merc today… Legolas, you’re with me and we’re dropping Govon at the Armouries, yes?’

They nodded.

‘It’s the open auditions this afternoon for the re-enactors.’ Govon said. ‘If you’re interested, Thiriston, we can sign you up?’

‘Yes… but what am I going to do with Canadion?’

‘With me, at the Centre,’ I said. ‘He – she – can be my personal assistant who has moved with me to my new role and whom I will pay out of my personal funds if necessary so that he – she – will not need to be interviewed by Crispin in Personnel other than to provide the relevant ID cards and computer access. I’ll arrange with Seamus about lifts and things. And I’d better give Peters a call sometime today… Ness, do you want anything from your flat?’

‘I do, but it’s quite near work. I can nip across and pack during my lunch break, so we could pick my bags up tonight?’

‘Agreed. Thiriston, if you like you can join us at the Discovery Centre for the morning. It’s not far to Govon’s place of work from there, we could walk over together after lunch.’

‘That sounds fine. What about York?’

‘I can’t go back,’ Canadion said quickly. ‘Not now I’ve left.’

‘We’ve jobs we’ve just walked out on. All our stuff – your shoes won’t be easy to replace…’

‘I’d rather go barefoot!’

‘No need,’ Nestoril said. ‘There are some excellent shoe shops in Leeds.’

‘I’ll mention the situation to Peters, my facilitator. I’m sure he will be able to sort out matters with your previous employers a way in which it would be better for them to make your leaving easy rather than have a fuss kicked up about the behaviour of some of their senior staff… he was also able to sort out a removals van and some strong backs to help us move at very short notice; I understand there is a packing service, too…’

‘Thank you, my king. No hurry.’

‘After all, I can lend Canadion a skirt and a jumper if it comes to it,’ Nestoril said helpfully. ‘And we can go clothes shopping together.’

I called Seamus to confirm, yes, he could get the Merc out again, and arranged a collection time while the rest of us finished eating and drinking and dressing and fussing in front of mirrors.

‘That’s a fine smile, Thranduil,’ Ness said, brushing her hair and smiling at me in the mirror.

‘I was wondering what my first friend here will make of you all. Lily. She has been very kind to me.’

‘Do I need to warn her off?’

‘Not at all. It seems Crispin in Personnel has been harbouring an interest in her for some time but not daring to show it. Somehow, I seem to have managed to bring them together. We must arrange for them both to visit some time, by way of a thank you.’

‘We’ll need to get some shopping done first.’

*

I did not want Ness to leave the car and go to work. She kissed my cheek.

‘I’ll see you later,’ she said. ‘And I’ll call in my lunch break.’

‘Good. Take care, Ness.’

Next stop was the Royal Armouries, where Legolas and Govon tried to part in equally chaste fashion, but failed. Seamus’ ears reddened again, but he very bravely kept his eyes forward as he drove the very short distance round to the Discovery Centre.

‘Thank you, Seamus. Just after four pm, please.’

‘Very good, my lord. Have a good day, gentlemen. Miss.’

Lily, it seemed, had been waiting in the car park for a glimpse of me.

‘What, where’s the Roller?’ she asked. ‘You didn’t prang it, I hope?’

‘Not at all; we needed more seats. Govon and Legolas you know; this is Thiriston and his partner Canadion.’

‘Hello… oh, lovely shoes. Wherever did you find them?’

‘York. There’s a lovely little shop…’

‘Let’s get inside,’ I said. ‘You can talk shoes and… and bags and things later.’

I led the way up to my office gestured my elves to seats before settling myself behind the desk, noticing that Lily had followed. She took a seat as if she’d been invited to join us.

‘Good weekend?’ she asked.

‘Exceptionally good, thank you. As you will see, I have managed to find more of my extended family – Canadion and Legolas are distant cousins through their mothers, and I have also been reunited with an old and dear friend – she has gone to work already this day. Govon and Legolas have moved into the coach house with me, and Canadion and Thiriston have taken one of the flats in the hall.’

‘Oh. Wow! Things have really been happening for you, haven’t they?’ She smiled. ‘For me, too, really,’ she said, lowering her voice. ‘Crispin took me to dinner on Saturday night, it was lovely…’

‘And is everything quite satisfactory in the Mini Cooper department?’ I asked.

She giggled.

‘You make it sound quite rude! No it’s a great little car… not a patch on the Rolls, of course, but still a classic, and he’s not scared to leave it outside my house overnight.’

Overnight? Well, I could hardly judge her, could I, not after my own experiences?

‘Next weekend, why do not you and Crispin come over for dinner with us all? Celebrate new alliances and old friends with us.’

‘Thank you. I’ll ask him if he’d like to do that. Well, time I was at my desk. I expect I’ll be in the canteen later with Crispin.’

‘We’ll be walking down to the Armouries with Thiriston, but it will not take all lunch time.’

‘See you later, then.’ 

She waved from the doorway and left us alone.

‘First order of business, Canadion, if you are going to be my secretary and assistant, there are facilities here for making tea and coffee. I know; it still seems to be a very gender-specific task, but in this case it falls to you simply because I am the boss. Let me show you where, and you can make us some coffee, if you like.’

I showed him the small kitchen area and a thought occurred to me.

‘I’ve no wish to offend you, but it’s going to become necessary for me to refer to you in conversation with Crispin and also with Peters… do I say ‘he’, which is natural, or ‘she’ which suits your disguise, or ‘zie’, which I understand is a gender-neutral way of doing so? Or ‘they’ which is another acceptable form of address...?’

‘Yes, but it also makes it obvious I’m not what I seem! People have been calling me ‘she’ for decades now; I’m used to it.’

There was an almost-sadness to the way in which he said it that made me want to console him. I stepped back before I spoke.

‘Well, I may not be a king any longer, but I still wield some authority. I am sure it is in my power to protect you, and Thiriston, and we will all be safe soon.’

‘Will we really?’

‘I will do all I can to ensure it. Then you can wear what you want and be called whatever you like, penneth.’

*

I arranged a trip to personnel and we all filed into Crispin’s office. It amused me that he was not at all intimidated by Thiriston, and raised his eyes at Canadion when I announced my intention of getting him – her – on the books.

‘You didn’t waste any time getting yourself sorted out, did you, Professor?’ he said.

‘Canadion will function as my personal assistant and secretary and so will need an office close to my own. I am prepared to pay her wages out of my private funds until such time as you can arrange for her to be on the books. She will need ID, of course, as will Thiriston, her husband. I think a volunteer’s card will be fine for him as I do not intend him to be employed here.’

‘Anything else, your highness?’

Thiriston cleared his throat.

‘That’s wrong,’ he said. ‘It’s “Your Majesty”. Legolas is “Your Highness”.’

I cast a quelling glance in Thiriston’s direction, but he resolutely did not notice.

‘Well, thank you for clearing that up…’ Crispin’s voice dripped sarcasm. ‘I’ll see what I can do, Thranduil. And only for Lily’s sake.’

For Lily’s sake, Crispin seemed quite happy to do anything, and with exhortations to leave everything to him, he was pleased to usher us out of his office.

‘I’ll look out the keys for the office next door for your secretary,’ he said. ‘I’ll bring them down later.’

‘Thank you.’

Next, because I could, I took everyone down to the store room and showed them the wonders amongst which I had existed for so long. 

Thiriston was drawn to the weapons while Canadion found the rails of vintage ladies’ dresses and fell upon them with glee.

Legolas played idly on the partially-strung harp and I allowed everyone time to explore for a few minutes while I went to spend time with Bold Hart’s antlers.

‘What do you have there?’ Canadion asked, coming over. ‘Not Nelleron?’

‘No, not he,’ I said, patting the antlers. ‘Bold Hart. I think it was only these which kept me from quite fading; I had forgotten all my other transitional objects – Nestoril called them anchors – I think I was fortunate.’

‘It’s harder to keep going on your own,’ Thiriston said. ‘Heard of a lot who faded because they lost their grip.’

‘I would be interesting in learning more,’ I said. ‘To be able to account for former associates, even in a sad way, would be a relief, I think.’

‘There are a lot of such stories, and, trust me, after you’ve heard three or four, your heart starts to break and you wish you hadn’t been told...’

‘What happens, do you think?’ Canadion asked. ‘When one fades, does one stay lost? Or is the fëa gathered to the Halls of Mandos?’

‘I do not know, penneth,’ I said as kindly as I could. ‘But I do not think such a faded one could be lost forever; it would be too unkind. Now, have you seen over here? We keep the garments on rails but in these drawers... that is where we house the shoes and handbags...’

He allowed me to distract him with vintage footwear and I let him play with the bags for a little while before gathering everyone’s attention once more.

‘Come back up to the office; I need to ring Peters and see if we can arrange a removals van for you, Thiriston.’


	18. Supper Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thiriston and Canadion are installed in their apartment...

If Peters was taken aback to have so much information, and so many requests, put to him across the telephone, he hid it well.

‘To clarify, my lord; there are tenants in the top flat and you need a removals van to go to York and back and provide a packing service…? And you require documents for whom…? Very well, Professor, I will see what I can do. Is there anything more?’

‘Yes, liaise with the Viking Centre in York where my associates have been working; Thiriston will need references... one of the senior staff there has been importuning his wife, you could use that for leverage if you need to, in order to ensure the best references...’

‘I see. You really do seem to be a formidable friend, Professor! Can you bring the persons in question in to the office tomorrow?’

‘Towards five pm.’

*

Lunchtime, we walked down together to the Royal Armouries. My phone rang on the way, and I spent a few minutes talking to Nestoril. She was at her flat, she had packed some more clothes and left her bags ready, and she suggested also bringing the contents of her food cupboards.

‘And I’ve heard from Merlinith. She’s thrilled to hear about Govon and I’ve got her mobile number so they can talk.’

‘Excellent. We will pass that on to him.’

We were within sight of the Armouries now. Legolas hung back.

‘I don’t think I want to go any closer, Adar. It was different, in the car. But actually being so near…’

‘Call Govon, then, tell him we are here.’

So we paused on the side of the canal in the bright, cold November day while Legolas called Govon and explained.

‘He says he’ll be here in a minute.’

Govon was in full re-enactment gear when he emerged, and people stared and applauded, some thinking he was part of a show about to start. So they got quite a surprise when left the forecourt to join us, and more of a shock when he put his arms around my son and hugged him gently.

‘Thank you for walking down to see me. I know it must be difficult for you.’

‘I barely remember this place, now. I worked here how long?’

‘Three years. No time at all, really.’ He stroked my son’s hair, oblivious to the stares, and kissed him gently before reluctantly letting go. 

‘Ada has news.’ Legolas said. ‘Nestoril has got Merlinith’s contact details. You can talk to her tonight.’

‘Wonderful. That is, I love my sister, I’m delighted she’s safe. I know I don’t sound it…’

‘Yes, you do. It’s different, with siblings. It’s not like finding my Ada, or him finding Ness again.’

Govon nodded. 

‘I’ll be missed if I don’t get back; it’s not my lunch break for another twenty minutes. Thiriston, if you still want a try-out, come with me.’

So I was left to take Canadion and Legolas back to the Discovery Centre by myself. I could not help but note that without Thiriston, Canadion was nervous and edgy, glancing around.

‘Is something the matter?’ I asked him kindly.

‘We’ve had difficult times. I would not have survived, without Thiriston... there were occasions when I thought I was being followed, but we could never spot anyone. Perhaps some of these humans realise I am not a female, but they can see I am not simply a male human in female garments – cross-dressing, there is even a word for it – and they are more suspicious of me. I... it is foolish, I know, there is nobody watching us now, and even if there were, I know my king and my prince are mighty warriors and, in fact, I am, also, a warrior... but it is easy to forget that.’

‘It has been easy to forget too many things. If anything troubles you, feel free to tell me, even if Thiriston is available. I am responsible for you all, even Thiriston, even if you do not need the protection of your former king, you have it, penneth.’

*

The afternoon passed quickly. Legolas sat in my office with me, looking out of the window and talking about his hopes for the future now that we had reunited. 

At one point, Crispin came up with keys for the office adjacent – it still had a desk and chair in place – and by the end of the afternoon a phone was in and a spare laptop placed on the desk, Canadion had a login and username - more than I did, I pointed out – and could access the computer system. 

Most exciting was that there was post for Canadion to open on my behalf. They were mainly invitations to visit museums around and about, which seemed to me to be an excellent idea, an opportunity to look for signs of other elvish activity.

Canadion’s phone rang and he – she – answered in style.

‘Professor King’s office. Can I help you?’

‘Reception here. His car’s outside.’

‘Thank you.’

So we closed up shop and locked up and all went down to the car.

*

Govon and Thiriston were waiting outside the Armouries for us.

‘How did you get on?’ Canadion asked Thiriston anxiously.

‘All right. They’ll let me know.’

‘They were very impressed,’ Govon said. ‘Although I think they want references from the place in York.’

‘It should not prove problematic,’ I said. ‘I spoke to Peters today and all is in train. Very well, Seamus. The hospital, please, to collect Dr Nestoril.’

‘Very good sir.’

Ness was waiting, and slid into the seat next to me.

‘Could we go to the flat to collect my things?’ she asked. ‘It’s just a few streets away. And Canadion, would you lend me Thiriston? It’s just it’s a rough street… I think this car’s worth more than the entire housing stock…’

‘You’ve been slumming it, Ness?’ I asked.

‘Well, it’s hardly a set of rooms in a palace,’ she said. ‘Take a left turn at the top, and then it’s the third street on the right… half way down… yes, behind the house with the purple fabric at the window… Thiriston, if you will just walk out with me and wait at the gate… my thanks…’

Three youths with cropped hair and improbably baggy track suits stared at Ness and Thiriston from one of the gardens lower down. They had a feral, hostile air about them. Thiriston stared back and shrugged his shoulders while Nestoril ran down a flight of steps and unlocked an iron gate and then her front door. Presently she set two zipped bags on the steps and Thiriston retrieved them. Seamus jumped out of the car and lifted the boot to stow the bags. Nestoril appeared again, this time with a large box, returning once more to pick up another load, all of which went into the car.

‘Done,’ she called. ‘I’ll just lock up.’

She was trembling as she took her seat next to me, leaning in, her hand shaking as she reached for mine.

‘Are you all right, Ness?’ I asked as Seamus took us away from there.

‘I am now. I had not realised how… how threatening this street can seem, sometimes. I have tried to fit in, not to alienate people, but some do not approve of where I make friends… so much ignorance in this world in this time, honestly, it is worse than it ever was between the dwarves and the elves…’

I put my arm round her.

‘Easy, my dear. You’re safe now. Do you need to go back again?’

‘I don’t believe so; there is nothing more I need from here. Oh, Thranduil! Thank you for finding me.’

‘My pleasure, Ness.’

*

The drive home took place in near silence as outside the car darkness fell. Soon we were purring up towards the hall. Lights were on in the occupied flats, casting a warm ambience around the building us we pulled to a smooth halt outside the coach house.

‘Any more orders, my lord?’

‘I don’t think we’ll need you again tonight, Seamus. Same time tomorrow, and we will need to run down to Adrian’s after work.’ I sighed. ‘The Merc, of course.’ 

‘Very good, sir. You know, you could always invest in that larger Rolls...’

Thiriston and Govon helped Nestoril with her bags while I unlocked the house and put the lights on. There was a note to say a delivery of goods had taken place, and the items were currently being stored at the back of the house in the garage since no-one was home.

‘And there will be more to come,’ I said, recollecting that Legolas and Govon had made some requests of furniture for their room. ‘Canadion, you can have the afternoon off tomorrow and house-sit with Thiriston for me, if you will. Unless you can throw your job up, Ness?’

‘Oh, don’t tempt me!’ she laughed, taking charge of the box, which seemed to be full of groceries. ‘I actually like the work, it’s just the area is a little stressful to live in. But if the good Seamus is driving us round, I’ve no worries. Govon, can you pass me that other bag? It’s got the frozen food in…’

He handed her the bag and then went to put his arms round Legolas for a moment.

‘I need a shower,’ he said. ‘Wash my back for me?’

I pretended not to hear and went to see if I could be any help to Nestoril. She was grinning, her back to the room as she populated my shelves with canned goods and my freezer with bags and packets.

‘I’m so glad they’re still together,’ she said. ‘Govon is so sweet to Legolas.’

‘He is, indeed, very caring. When first he took me to see my son… he was sitting wrapped in blankets, staring, unaware. And Govon… he was so gentle as he tried to rouse him, but I could hear the fear and heartbreak in his voice… I’m so pleased he’s safe now.’

‘Yes. Thranduil…’ she began, her tone uncertain.

‘Yes?’

‘I am not sure that he is. Or that any of us are, not really. I think your plan is a good one, I think we need to sail as soon as we can. Just to be sure.’

‘Come here.’ I put my arms around her and gently hugged her. She sighed against me and I dropped my chin onto the top of her head. ‘You have been living in fear. It’s no wonder that you’re anxious, nervous. But you’re safe now. As soon as we can get something organised, we’ll sail. But I want to make sure we’ve found everyone first, everyone we possibly can. I do not want to be remembered for leaving anyone behind.’

‘I don’t think there’s any danger of that,’ she said, gathering herself together. ‘Anyway, what do you want for supper?’

‘Anything. Pizza. Toast. Chips, Lily likes chips, I’m not sure I’ve had them… would I like them?’

‘Oh, I see you have adopted a pure and healthy way of eating!’ She laughed. ‘Yes, I am sure you would like chips! How can you be so far-too-thin and yet own up to toast and pizza?’

‘Because I have only just started eating again.’

She eased out of my embrace, shaking her head and beginning to take things out of the refrigerator and the cupboard again.

‘Sire, is there another bathroom?’ Canadion called from the rear of the sitting area. ‘Only Thiriston was play-fighting this afternoon and he needs to freshen up…’

‘The en-suite,’ I said. ‘Through the master and on the right.’

‘And you can help me, Canadion,’ Nestoril said. ‘What vegetables does Thiriston like these days?’

‘Chips,’ he said.

‘Thranduil, stop laughing, sit down and relax,’ Ness told me. ‘I’ll just get everything going and then join you.’

‘I heard there was something called emancipation? Or Equal Rights?’ I said, nevertheless going to sit down and open my laptop. ‘Which means you do not have any more responsibility for the cooking and the caring than do I...’

‘True. But I have the ability. And for all that he is in a frock, Canadion is helping…. By the way, I was going to ask, penneth, will you want to dress in masculine fashion now you’ve finished work for the day?’

‘Well, I think not. I am used to these clothes now… except I do not usually wear such high heels for so long…’

‘Just take your shoes off,’ Ness said. ‘I have.’

I settled with my lap top to check my emails and social media in case anyone else had replied to my reaching out. To my surprise, there was a friend request from ‘Dan’ in Liverpool. His photograph showed part of a profile; grey beard, pointed ear tip. He gave his job title as shipwright and his status read: There Is Always A Ship…

Could it be? ‘Dan, Cirdan? Ship-maker to the elves throughout history?

Legolas came out of the corridor leading to the house bathroom and their bedroom.

‘Govon’s calling Merlinith,’ he said. ‘He’s so excited, but he’s pretending not to be... What’s that, Adar?’

‘I think I have found another friend… or he has found me. Cirdan.’

‘Excellent! What does he say?’

‘There is always a ship.’

‘Well, that’s what Nestoril always says, too.’

 

I didn’t quite know what it was that Nestoril and Canadion cooked for us, but there was a mixture of textures and flavours, protein and vegetables and rice, enough for everyone, and a couple of bottles of wine for with it. One thing I had made sure Peters had done was make sure there was a goodly stock of wine in the house.

Govon was full of his call to Merlinith. 

‘She sounds well,’ he told us more than once. ‘And she is still living with Araspen; they are not very far away, really. Perhaps we could go and see her at the weekend?’

‘All of us?’ I asked.

‘Maybe not all, but if you wanted, I am sure she would be happy to see so many friends…’

‘Better, perhaps, for her to come here? We could meet her at the station; Araspen too, of course.’

‘Perhaps. I’ll ask her tomorrow what she wants to do.’

*

By the time we went for our meeting with Peters, he was able to inform me ha had contacted the relevant people and the power was back on in both flats, and the following day saw Thiriston ride with the removals men back to their lodgings in York to pack up his and Canadion’s clothes and essential furnishings so that by the time I dropped Canadion off at the day’s end, he’d had a message from Thiriston saying the top flat was furnished and he would have a familiar home again.

I was touched that they invited us up for supper.

It was surprising how much a difference a table and a few chairs could make. The skylight room no longer looked like a wasted opportunity; after we had eaten (pizza, chips, salad, and wine – from my wine racks) we switched off the lights and looked up at the bright stars through the window overhead.

Nestoril began to hum softly, an old Silvan melody we all knew, a celebration of starlight and memory and forever, and Legolas joined in, then Govon’s soft tenor voice in harmony, Canadion’s light tone lilting along, Thiriston’s bass anchoring it all, and I, too, found my voice at last, and sang of starlight and memory and forever with the remnant of my friends and family.


	19. Lists

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil learns more of which elves have sailed and who are still around... and whose names are not on the lists...

Keen to press on with such arrangements as I could, I messaged ‘Dan’ – Cirdan – next day, expressing my eagerness to sail with my family. The morning passed in unwarranted anticipation, as I found myself checking and rechecking for any response.

In reality, only a few hours passed before Cirdan had messaged me in response, but it had seemed an anxious wait; perhaps there was a part of me that was more keen to leave this world than I knew.

However, once we had adequately verified each other’s identity, and exchanged email addresses for proper correspondence, and following a swift sequence of messages back and forth, we were able to go so far as to establish a rough outline of possible dates; Cirdan, too, seemed eager to press for an early date to sail. He also mentioned Calithilon and Erthor, and the retreat they ran in the north of the country – Scotland – and their project.

_‘There are substantial pine forests in the north. Not ideal for Silvans, perhaps, but evergreen, and wild, and some of your elves did find a home there. These two have been patiently explaining and reassuring and persuading them that there will be a welcome for them on the far side of the Sundering Seas in the Undying Lands should they choose it, and caring for the rest as best they can… it has been slow work, and in the last century or so there have been few, very few new voyagers. What we need is a concerted effort, a last call to elves everywhere that there will be one more ship…’  
_  
The last ship ever.

_‘Perhaps I can assist there,’_ I had replied. _‘I have recently acquired a position of some responsibility, and I have already completed several interviews for a range of publications which may help bring the news of my continuing existence to the awareness of other elves. Photographs, too; I have not altered so much. Museums and universities will receive these publications.’_

_‘One month,’_ he messaged back. _‘There is an opportunity arising to acquire a suitable vessel, and I will equip and crew the ship for us. It will take several hundred passengers, if we can find them, but there will be very little time to spare. I have a commission to overhaul an existing vessel, so it will be in my power to take charge of it. But timing is all. Within a few days of that month being up, the ship will be required to return to its proper function elsewhere…’_

_‘How many?’_ I asked. _‘How many elves, Silvans, have you seen? Do you know? Can you say?’_

_‘Many. I have sent hundreds over the seas in the Sixth Age alone. I have lists of those I know are still here, those who sailed. I will send them to you. While they are incomplete, I hope there are some names on it that will bring you comfort.’_

So all through that week, I went to work and spoke to Crispin, and tried to contact as many people as I could with a view to getting more publicity, making sure my name – Lord Thranduil, Professor King as I had been styled – was everywhere it could be. I began to stop worrying quite so much about Legolas, and started worrying more about finding other elves to take with us over the Sundering Seas instead.

Soon the publications were out, circulating, and I kept checking my emails and social media hopefully, but with no further results. 

One morning Canadion brought me the post, eyes excited; one bore a Liverpool postmark and was embossed with a design of elegant Tengwar letters around an impress of a sailing vessel; the script read ‘There is Always a Ship’; Cirdan’s lists had arrived.

Opening it eagerly, I read the cover note before scanning the names swiftly, nodding to myself as I recognised one name after another. A soft throat-clearing reminded me Canadion was still present.

‘Yes, Canadion?’

‘Sire, I... might I ask... if you happen... should happen to see the name M... of my father...’

Canadion’s father, Merenor. I remembered him, or, rather, I remembered the upheavals that followed his arrival – re-arrival, really – at the palace. The place was much livelier once he had returned, I seemed to recall... 

But the name was not there, and as I also remembered how close Canadion and his father had been, I shied away from breaking what could possibly be bad news, and instead handed over the pages while I read the cover letter.

‘Would you like to look for yourself?’

‘Thank you, sire!’

I left him looking and went to make coffee, thinking he might need it, or at least the kindness it represented. Returning, I found the lists discarded and Canadion despondent.

‘His name is not there, my king! Oh, Ada, where are you...? I... there is nothing of my Adar-in-honour, either, although it seems Naneth sailed, and my brothers, but not... Ada is not there... Are there no more pages, perhaps? Can it be that Cirdan has not sent all the names...?’

‘I am sorry,’ I said. ‘The cover letter is quite clear, these are the names known to Cirdan and his own people whose names he does not append, presumably because they are all Noldor and why would we be interested in them? But look, your own name is not on the lists, is it? Nor Govon’s, or my son’s... how likely is it, then, that your father is safe and well somewhere, his husband with him? The most inventive minds in the kingdom, if any could survive, and find their own way over the Sundering Seas, it is those two! When did you last have news of them?’

‘Hundreds of years ago, sire. And... I do not think you remember, but there was a time when they thought inventions were evil, the Devil’s work, the works of witches and... and... and they burned witches, sire, and then later they chased and stoned inventors, and... and...’

He dissolved into a little heap of sobs and I was at a loss; I could not hug him or offer him comfort... but nor could I leave him like this... Thiriston was back at Woodford, Legolas sharing Govon’s morning off at the coach house, Ness working... in despair, I called Lily.

‘Do you have a moment? Canadion has had some bad news and I think a woman’s sympathy...’

‘Oh, Thranduil, you and your friends, you do need looking after! I’m on my way.’

Lily arrived and led Canadion off to the privacy of his office next door and I made such arrangements as I could; a call to Thiriston to tell him Seamus would collect him and bring him to us to discuss a matter of urgency, another to Seamus instructing him to pick up Thiriston and hurry him here along with my son and his spouse. Calling Legolas next, and leaving two voice messages – well, I had half expected they would have other priorities than answering calls... but eventually, I got a call back.

‘Ada, what is it?’

‘A message from Cirdan; the fact of the matter is, Canadion is upset, if I send for Thiriston alone he will worry and possibly growl at me when he arrives; if you and Govon come too, it will be easier on us all, I think.’

Lily came in to my office about twenty minutes later.

‘I think she’s a bit calmer now. Poor thing, losing touch with her family like that, Mum leaving them to go to America, and Dad staying, but then moving and not leaving an address... funny it coming out like this, but then, time of the month, I suppose..’ This last said in lowered tones as if I was supposed to know what she meant. I nodded as if I did anyway. ‘I think she’ll be all right.’

‘Thank you, Lily; I’ve sent for her husband, he shouldn’t be long.’

‘I’ll get back to my desk, then. Poor love.’

I prowled outside the lift until it disgorged my family and Thiriston, and drew the big elf to one side.

‘Legolas, you and Govon go and play with my coffee machine. Thiriston, it is you I wanted to see, really...’

‘Oh? Something up?’

I explained about Cirdan’s lists and Canadion’s distress, by which time Thiriston was growling as expected and we had reached Canadion’s office. 

‘Obviously, I could not offer comfort myself; it would not have been proper, but I sent for my friend Lily and she sat with him...’

I knocked on the door and opened it, allowing Thiriston to burst into the room and pick Canadion up from his chair to cuddle him in. Fresh tears flowed.

‘Easy now, penneth...’

‘There will be coffee in my office, when you are ready,’ I said, and left them to it.

 

The coffee had cooled by the time they made an appearance, but Canadion had dried his eyes and fixed his make-up and was looking braver, even if he did cling to Thiriston’s hand as if it were a lifeline. 

My boys had spent the time looking over the lists, and I brought them to Thiriston’s attention too. He looked them over, nodding.

‘You know your father, penneth,’ he said to Canadion. ‘Never did like being on lists.’

‘That’s true,’ Canadion said with a faltering, brave smile. ‘Especially not Noldor lists... Do you think...?’

‘I’m sure he’ll be fine, wherever he is,’ Thiriston said firmly. ‘Some interesting names here, Thranduil.’

‘Yes, indeed. I was pleased to see Arveldir and Erestor’s names on the list of those Cirdan helped...’ I said this with a sideways look at Govon; he had never quite lost his suspicion of Peters and the rest of the employees at Adrian’s. With one exception; he seemed to like Seamus who could, given sufficient encouragement, talk endlessly about cars to Legolas. ‘And others of Canadion’s family have sailed, too; I agree with you; Merenor always falls on his feet; I have no qualms, you see, about naming him, I am sure he is fine. Now, I hope one of you told Seamus to wait...? No?’ I sighed. ‘Well, I had planned on giving Canadion the afternoon off so that you could take him home...’

‘That’s a kind thought, sire, but I feel better now...’

‘Then perhaps Thiriston can take you shopping instead? Lily says that always cheers her up.’

*

At the weekend, Govon and Legolas rode out in the Rolls to meet Merlinith and Araspen and spent a happy day catching up, driving back in time so that Seamus could then collect Lily and Crispin for our housewarming supper. It was not an event I really knew much about, but Nestoril seemed to have been a guest at enough of such parties that she knew what was expected. 

I think the phrase ‘convivial gathering’ was coined specifically for just such an occasion as we made of it. The deliveries having been completed through the week with Thiriston there to oversee them, and so the coach house was finally fully furnished and stocked. A few judicious enquiries from Nestoril had discovered local shops to which Seamus was happy to drive her; the Merc had a spacious boot.

As for my part, I really just tried to keep an eye on everyone and hold the little family together. Canadion and Thiriston seemed happier now, at least. I was glad for Canadion’s sake that they had managed to furnish their flat with their things from York without his having to go back there himself. The ever-efficient Peters had arranged everything necessary about their last jobs and references for the new re-enactment placement for Thiriston, and one of the topics of conversation during the evening was the commencement of his new job the following week. It hardly seemed worth it, given the fact that we would be leaving soon, but it was important to keep up as much a semblance of normality as possible lest we arouse undue interest in our affairs.

Lily was impressed with the changes to the coach house.

‘This is gorgeous now,’ Lily said. ‘Not bad at all for a homeless man in a borrowed tee; you’ve made this place really wonderful; I almost envy you, but I do love my little house.’

‘Yes; it is near to work for you, and it seems to suit you. And let us not forget, that without your friendship, I would still be languishing in the storage room.’

‘Ah... but for you Crispin and I would still be trying to pluck up courage to say something to each other!’

*

All told, things were going well. 

The day after the party, we gathered to peruse the lists once more. Having shown us that many former friends or associates had escaped across the Sundering Seas, and certain knowledge that others we had known were still surviving and in regular contact with Cirdan had been a comfort to us all, even if some of the names not on the lists were of concern to one of other of us; Merenor, Canadion’s father, Maereth and Gyril who had been Nestoril’s healers. Of course, some of those listed were not Silvan, unknown to us, and so we were less bothered about them.

‘But what should we do about the Silvans here, Adar?’ Legolas asked. ‘We ought to try to get in touch with them, surely?’

‘Let me consult with Cirdan first,’ I said. ‘It is reasonable to assume they are safe, and that he has been able to contact them; he can invite them to sail with us.’

‘But if he knows the names, surely he’s already done that?’ Nestoril put in. ‘And if they are still here, perhaps his word is not enough.’

‘True. We should, perhaps, expend our efforts in finding those who have not reached out to Cirdan, who may only trust a Silvan.’

‘Or their Sindar royals.’ Govon added.

‘Yet if these are the names Cirdan has, what hope is there of finding others?’ Canadion said sadly.

‘Govon’s name is not here, nor Legolas’,’ I pointed out. ‘Surely you cannot have forgotten how easily we could hide, when we had to? Yes, we will ask Cirdan to approach those he knows – but we will not leave it just to him; we will message them, too, and we will do all we can through whatever means we can think of to find our former friends and companions.’

So that was added to our routine, too – trying to find even more Silvans who might need reassurance and encouragement, and the rare days on which we found someone, even just one more, was a triumph.

 

And just when I had begun to think all was well with my son, he once more gave cause for concern.

It was the Tuesday after Lily and Crispin had come for the housewarming, and we were getting ready for work, I making coffee while Nestoril was showering, when Govon called out my son’s name.

We had become somewhat used to that, of course, of late, but there was an anxiety in his tone today and, besides, he was conscientious about not being late for work.

He hurtled out of their room, eyes panicked.

‘He’s gone, again! I tried the hair tugging… help me…’

I hurried after him into the bedroom; Legolas was lying on his back, covered to the waist, his eyes staring straight up, the nictitating membranes that slide across to protect the corneas during reverie not engaged.

‘Stay with him, do as you used, talk to him about the special times you two have shared. I’ll fetch Nestoril.’

She was just finished dressing, obviously hurrying, no shoes on yet.

‘It’s Legolas.’

‘I heard. I’m on my way.’

Govon had gathered Legolas into his arms and was rocking him, stroking his face, tickling his cheek with a strand of blond hair, talking softly, gently, earnestly.

‘Here is Nestoril, come, wake up, melleth; you are worrying me, you are worrying your father…’

‘Let me see, Govon.’

Nestoril looked intently into Legolas’ face, tapped his cheek lightly, checked his pulse, and finally began to chant her invocation softly, her voice a murmur as she made her necessary connections. But her lips became set and grim, and I saw her throat convulse.

‘Someone should stay with him today,’ she said. ‘It doesn’t matter who, but someone who can talk to him, who remembers the same sort of things he will. Thranduil, you need to go to work; you’ve a meeting this afternoon with some of the other museum representatives. That means you’ll need Canadion with you, too.’

‘I’ll stay; I can ring in sick,’ Govon said.

‘Or you can leave me with him, I know enough, I think, about his past.’

‘Would you do so?’ Govon asked. ‘I really don’t want to leave him…’

‘What did you used to do?’ I asked. ‘The day I came back to the flat with you, he had been awake when?’

‘That morning, when I left, he was... well, not fine, but I thought he would stay awake. I had no choice, if I hadn’t gone to work, I could have lost the job, lost everything…’

‘I mean no criticism, Govon,’ I said quickly. ‘That you kept him well for so long is wonderful…’

‘If you will trust me with him, I will gladly stay,’ Nestoril said.

‘All right. Thank you, Nestoril. I am grateful.’

‘Let me ring your office for you, Ness,’ I said. 

‘Thank you. If you tell them I won’t be in before Friday…’

‘Were it not that I am worried, I would be delighted to hear it.’

‘Govon, you take over here, I’ll be back in a moment… you’ll need the number, Thranduil, it’s on my phone.’

I followed Nestoril out to the kitchen area where she scribbled down a number.

‘How is Legolas?’ I asked. ‘Really?’

‘Really, it is what I feared; that he was not completely anchored yet. Do you have anything I could use to help bring him back?’

‘If Govon’s loving care, and our constant attendance is not enough… there is a fragment of his original token that Govon made him, there is his mother’s starlight gemstone… let me get those for you…’

‘Drink coffee and eat breakfast,’ she said, when I returned with the stone and the token. ‘I’ll send Govon out and try to rouse your son.’

Govon didn’t have much appetite, but I coaxed and cajoled him into drinking coffee and eating something.

‘If you’re wielding a sword all morning, you’ll need the calories,’ I said. ‘Take something with you, too.’

‘I can’t – I’m too worried…’

‘And what help will you be to Legolas, pray, in a weakened state? He will need you strong, Govon. For him, you must try.’

So Nestoril sat with my son, talking softly to him about all the things she knew he would remember from the old days, and the rest of us went to work, dropping Thiriston and Govon off at the Armouries and continuing on to the Discovery Centre.

We had our usual audience waiting to catch a glimpse of the Merc and us disembarking; Canadion now had some new, lower heels that were still very beautiful but not quite so difficult to wear all day and despite the ring he wore on the third finger of his left hand (a modern convention signifying marriage) he was subject as many admiring glances from other male employees as the car was, much to our private entertainment.

Lily was waiting near reception.

‘Just wanted to say thanks again for Saturday; Crispin and I had a lovely time. Where’s Legolas?’ she asked.

‘Not well today,’ I said. ‘Nestoril is looking after him.’

‘It must be reassuring to have a doctor with him, at least.’

‘Yes. Ness is very good at her job.’

In my office I made the call to Nestoril’s employers as requested, and then let Canadion talk me through my diary. It was hardly necessary, since we both knew perfectly well what the day would hold, but it was what all the secretaries and PAs did for their bosses.

‘And here’s the post for today,’ he – she – said, dropping a stack of opened envelopes on my desk.

‘Thank you, Canadion.’ I began to shift through the papers, slowing as I noticed that several at the top of the stack had cursive and beautiful script at the bottom. ‘Have you read this?’

‘Read it? No, sire. Recognised it, yes.’

Four of the missives were decorated with familiar, beautiful Tengwar script.

There were elves still out there, in the world.

And at least four of them had written to me.


	20. Realisation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil hears news of more Silvans, and comes to an alarming realisation...

If my hand trembled when I opened the envelopes, I hid it; after all, I was fortunate; the most important people in my world were here with me already; my son, his husband. My Nestoril... 

Still, I was aware of a sense of importance as I looked the letters over. All began with comments about having seen something about me in one or other of the publicity releases and expressing the hope that I was the same Thranduil whom they remembered of old in Eryn Lasgalen. Most had phone numbers, or email addresses, and the elvish script generally gave the real names of the writers, while the letters were often signed with more mundane names.

‘O my king,’ one said, making me smile, for I was sure I recognised the term of address even before I read on. ‘Is it too much to hope that you would remember one of your Dragon Warriors, Triwathon, who before that was in your Court Guard?’

‘Triwathon’s still here!’ I exclaimed. ‘Durham, he says.’

‘Oh, I remember Triwathon,’ Canadion exclaimed. ‘Somehow, he ended up in Glorfindel’s bed…’

‘Strictly speaking, it was more that Glorfindel ended up in Triwathon’s bed, if I remember aright… well, that is good news… Here is one from Duinor… I’m sure I know that name…’

‘Sire, you know all the names,’ Canadion said.

‘A weapon-smith… the best weapon-smith, he made the knives my son favoured… there is a phone number, try to get him for me, would you? I want to know if he still makes them.’

‘I’ll place the call now, Professor King.’

The two other missives were from elves named Saithor and Oreldaer; Silvans who had been part of the forest, part of the army when needed, part of the rhythm of our days, names familiar from warrior contests but not properly, personally known to me as I seemed to be to them. But that was how it was, of course; many people note one king, a single king has a harder task knowing thousands of people.

A few moments later, my phone rang.

‘I have Duinor for you, Thranduil.’

‘Thank you.’

‘My king?’ a voice said.

‘Duinor. I have your letter in my hand, I am pleased you have survived. Do you still make those wonderful knives of yours?’

I heard him laugh.

‘It is wonderful, sire, to hear your voice after so long. I do, indeed. I am in Sheffield, as you can see from my letter, so not too far from you… are there others of us, still?’

‘Some. Not enough, but they include my son, and his fëa-mate. And I need you to make Legolas more white knives, if you can.’

‘It would be an honour, your majesty. Does my king have any other commands?’

‘We are looking to sail, Duinor. This world is growing too dangerous for us. I no longer have the right to command, but I would ask you to consider joining us.’

‘My king, I will follow you anywhere, even over the Sundering Seas.’

* 

Canadion brought coffee in and, although it was not strictly the done thing, we drank together, discussing the reconnection with our old comrades; if he was disappointed that none of the letters had carried news of his father, he hid it well.

‘Make a list of all the email address, names, phone numbers, locations so it’s easy to access,’ I told him. ‘Then begin contacting them. You‘ll be remembered, I’m sure.’

‘Yes, Thranduil.’

There was a phone call on my mobile at just before midday. I recognised Nestoril’s ring tone.

‘Ness?’

‘Legolas is back. Very distressed that he was gone again, but he’s awake, and eating, and we have already let Govon know.’

‘Thank the Valar for that. Thank you, Ness. What did it?’

‘I think it was the armband Govon had made him.’

‘I want to come home. If I send for Seamus, I could be there in an hour and back for my meeting later…’

‘And frighten your son by making him think it’s more serious than it might be? Thranduil, it’s best not, believe me.’

‘But…’

‘Consider; I’m trying to convince him it was just a little lapse, nothing to worry about, and if you turn up to make sure he’s still here, that will not help allay his fears. I’ve already had to go through this same conversation with Govon, you know. Besides, you know if you came home you wouldn’t want to leave again today, and you are the one stressing how important your meeting this afternoon might be.’

‘All right. I have good news, Ness. We found some more Silvans.’

‘Oh, wonderful! Do not tell me now, phone Legolas at lunchtime and tell him then.’

I went through the other, non-Tengwar-scripted letters. Invitations to attend this convention and that meeting, to see a particular museum and to consider investing some scheme or other… I didn’t quite understand why suddenly so many people were seeking me out. In fact, I wasn’t quite sure what my role was, which might go some way towards explaining the confusion.

‘If it’s anything like at our place, they’re always chasing the money,’ Canadion told me. ‘There have been so many cuts to funding lately... These interviews you did… I’ve been looking through and seen the phrase ‘wealthy philanthropist Lord Thranduil, Professor King…’ more than once. I think that implies that he has money he’s just desperate to throw at the right project…’

‘Has he so?’ I queried. ‘I did not realise I had intimated so much.’

‘Oh, you have to be very careful what you say, you can so easily be misquoted!’

‘Still, it is an opportunity to seek out others of our kind,’ I said.

Canadion shook his head.

‘You do know there can’t be more than a few of us left? That you’ve managed to gather so many of us together, to put us back in touch, is amazing. Lately – this last century or so – there has been so little contact between us…’

‘I suppose you must be right. For Cirdan to be so keen to sail so soon… I still wish to contact them all, as many as we can reach, with word of the ship.’

‘Of course, sire. But they might not be able to just abandon everything and turn up at the port on the right day… some will have jobs, or not have jobs and so have not the money for transport but will have to walk…’

‘We can help with that. When you contact all the names on the list, tell them about the ship. Ask if they’re interested and if they can make their way to Leeds or what assistance they will need to do so. We have room for two in the coach house; the other flat has two bedrooms, but at a push more could sleep in the dining room… or even in the garage if necessary; we lived in caves for long enough, a few nights in a brick-built garage won’t harm anyone...’

‘I would offer our second room, sire, but I would like to check with Thiriston first…’

‘Of course. I suppose we can organise hotels, in any case. And we will need to look into accommodation in Liverpool, so that we are there early for the ship…’ 

‘So space for eight or ten in the flats and the coach house, sire… and are we forgetting the woods? I am sure we could organise a talan or two…’

I laughed.

‘Oh, how very like the old days it would be! Thank you, Canadion. I am not sure how practical it would be, but you remind me of where we belong.’

Lunchtime arrived and I made a point of calling home. Nestoril answered and put the machine on speaker so that I could talk to both of them at once.

‘Some familiar names; Saithor and Oreldaer, Duinor, Legolas’ favourite weapons smith, and Triwathon.’

‘That’s wonderful!’ Nestoril exclaimed.

‘It is good news,’ Legolas said. ‘Didn’t he take up with... ah... what was his name? Govon and I were in Ithilien then, so I don’t recall quite everything...? Your advisor, after Arveldir followed his heart... I wonder how Triwathon is these days, if they’re still together...’

‘Difficult to say; the information has come in formal letters with simple Sindar post scripts and he did not mention his marital status, and I did not call to speak to him. Certainly, he did not sound unhappy, in any way; the tone of his letter is curious. I’m going to lunch now, if you need me.’

*

The afternoon meeting was a success, I was told afterwards. Bradford had a museum which was struggling for funding; I agreed to go and look the place over. A Leeds museums representative bridled at me, immediately asking why had I not gone to see their displays? I pointed out I had only been in post a few days, and said I would be quite happy to look at all their museums in the next week or two and to arrange times with my secretary. Thank you.

Museum representatives everywhere wanted me to visit; Leeds, Bradford, Ilkley, Barnsley, Wakefield… there was a museum of mining there, and I was not sure I would find any elves. Dwarves, maybe, but apart from one notable exception, they did not sail west. With such a wealth of museums in the region, it made me think – what of further afield? How many museums were there in the country?

I said as much to Canadion afterwards.

‘I could not say, sire, but there are dozens in York alone… but just because some elves took refuge in some museums, must it follow that all museums have a population of elvenkind?’

‘Of course not. I am simply… if it is to be the last ship, Canadion, then I want it to have as many of us on board as possible. What did you arrange?’

‘Leeds Museum in the morning, and then on to Bradford… from there, one of the Bradford galleries wishes to give us lunch, and then on to Ilkley – it isn’t far – then back to the office for the rest of the afternoon.’

‘You said ‘us’, Canadion…?’

‘You will need your PA… and I also said that there was a possibility that your assistant might be with us, too…’

‘Good thinking. Very well. Can we go home yet?’

‘It’s almost four o’clock… you asked for the car at a half past, sire…’

‘Canadion, if we’re alone, you had better use my name.’

‘Yes, sire… Thranduil. And... amongst humans, I tend to introduce myself as Candy...’

‘Candy. Does Thiriston know?’

Canadion smiled.

‘Yes. It’s memorable, but not as unusual as my real name. And it’s sort of easier to pretend to be female, if I have another name to attach to that side of my persona.’

‘Well, then, Candy. Perhaps you can make us one last coffee, and that should take us to time.’

There were a few emails to answer, confirmations of the next day’s schedule, and those, and the coffee, filled the last half hour quite satisfactorily.

At the Royal Armouries, Canadion hopped out of the car to greet Thiriston with a hug and a very messy kiss; Govon grinned ruefully and slid into the back of the Merc.

‘Legolas phoned me this morning,’ he said. ‘He sounds fine again.’

‘Nestoril called me. I was very glad to hear it! If he is well tomorrow, I’ve some museums to visit, if he’d like it.’

Canadion and Thiriston joined us in the Merc and I gave the order for us to set off home. I was trying to get everyone into the habit of not discussing the voyage or matters pertaining to it, or our search for other elves in front of Seamus, so instead we talked about our days at work, Thiriston deconstructing his day for Canadion, mostly.

‘We’ll need you at the same time in the morning, Seamus,’ I said as we disembarked. ‘And there will probably be more driving tomorrow. My thanks.’

‘Very good, my lord. Have a peasant evening, sir.’ 

 

We had a very glad evening. Canadion and Thiriston agreed to come in to talk for half an hour after both our households had finished supper; I wanted time with my son first.

My son.

Of course, Govon had first claim to his time, but after an initial hug, he stepped away from Legolas.

‘I’m going to shower and change. See you soon, my fair elf.’

I wanted to hug Legolas myself, naturally, after the scare he’d given me that morning, clutch him to me as I had when first we were reunited, but I was afraid to worry him. He looked at me with the small smile he’d seemed to have inherited from me, but which made him look beautiful and thoughtful and mysterious, while on me it always tended to look rather sinister.

‘I’m fine, Adar,’ he said. ‘Ness explained it to me; we’ve been living away from each other for so long that we’ve lost our sense of community. It’s one of the things that anchors us. The other things – loved ones, transitional objects – they can only help some of the time and to a certain degree. So there’s bound to be an occasional lapse.’

‘That’s right,’ Nestoril nodded. ‘But all seems well now. I’ve got your starlight gemstone here, safe for you.’

‘Thank you, Ness.’

She tumbled it into my palm and I looked at how it sparkled and glittered, thought about all the memories we had whispered and spoken to the jewel, keeping our lost one alive in our hearts, in the heart of the stone. 

I had loved her, the mother of my sons, she whom I could not name, for she had been Silvan and Silvan tradition held that speaking the name of the dead disturbed their afterlife, and so we could only address them on special sacred days. So we always would say – she who was your mother, my former consort, the Royal Elk Tamer who trained my first riding elk, Urulosson… We had made vows – until death or the seas sunder us – she would not be my queen, she would not marry me.

And she had died, but so long ago that by now she, who had lived a useful, loving and blameless life, would not have been kept long in the Halls of Mandos before her fëa had been reborn in a new copy of her old hröa; she would be there, in Valinor, waiting for me. 

I had loved her, yes.

But I loved Nestoril, too.

And then it came home to me that I had a potential problem brewing...


	21. Petition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more elves arrive, and Thranduil is sent a petition from the human tenants...

I should have thought of it before, of course, as soon as I had realised Nestoril was still here, and still lodged in my heart and my fëa, but perhaps I had been too concerned about Legolas, and too busy, but now that my initial panic for my son had subsided, I had time to contemplate the situation in which I found myself.

It was suddenly rather alarming.

When we sailed, when we landed on the far away shores of the Undying Lands, my two sons would be waiting for me. And, if all was as we were meant to think, so would their mother, re-embodied in Valinor after a short period of reflection in the Halls of Mandos.

Of course, our vows had not been eternally binding; until death or ships took us away from each other; there was no denying that had been the case. And my love for her was in the past, now. I had loved, I had grieved, I had moved on... I was sure that if I met her again, she would have the same affectionate, warm remembrance I did, but no more.

I hoped.

‘What do you want for supper?’ Nestoril asked, interrupting my pondering.

‘I don’t know; where are those takeaway menus?’

‘Honestly, Thranduil! It’s hardly healthy…’

‘But you cannot be cooking every night; it is surely someone else’s turn… and Govon and Legolas are going to be busy… and I do not know how to cook, not really…’

‘Pizza, then. With salad and more salad.’

‘Very well. Legolas, have you a preference?’

‘Vegetable, and garlic bread. Plenty of it.’

‘Indeed. One could almost feel sorry for Govon.’

I put the order in by telephone and sat down with Ness, taking her hand.

‘While we wait for supper, walk with me in the woods?’

‘Really? All right. Let me find my coat.’

I jumped her over the waist-high wall separating the coach house from the woodland and led her amongst the trees. Their trunks glistened pale amongst the dark under-layers of shrub and bramble, the sky above was high and blue, the branches black against the night.

Nestoril’s hand in mine was a gentle comfort. I knew what I had to say, what I wanted to say, I simply didn’t know how to say it.

So I said it the first way I could; I have always preferred to be direct in speech, if devious in thought.

‘Marry me, Ness. Before we sail.’

‘What?’

‘I love you. You know this. Please? It would make me happy. I will try to be good to you.’

‘But isn’t it rather sudden?’

‘Only if you disregard the fact that we were lovers millennia ago.’

‘What about Legolas?’

‘He has Govon; why would he mind?’

‘His mother, of course! Thranduil, you can’t just spring something like this on me…’

I kissed her.

If I’d hoped to silence her, I was mistaken; although her lips were as soft and yielding as ever, as soon as we broke the embrace, she began talking again.

‘…we’ve been apart for too long, and you have too much of your memory missing for it to be right, for it to be a good idea, for it to be fair of me...! Thranduil… What are you thinking?’

‘I’m thinking I want to be sure of you, before we sail. After all, I don’t know if there might be one who is waiting for you, on the far side of the Sundering Seas.’

‘There is no-one, of course! But… Oh. Oh, but there may well be someone waiting for you… Melleth-nin, you don’t have to marry me to reassure me, you know. She was the mother of your children, I know how the vows were for you… it will be all right.’

‘I still want to marry you. Please, permit me? I know, Ness, you are my eternity, so let me make you my wife.’

She sighed and leaned against me.

‘I remember, even if you do not, how she loved you and how you loved her... Let me think about it.’

‘All right. But we do not have forever.’

‘Yes, we do. We are elves, Thranduil.’

‘We are elves who are due to sail in a few weeks.’

‘I love you, my dear, I do, it’s just…’

‘It’s just that I have dropped this into your lap when we have only just been reunited. Forgive me. But, please – consider my request?’

‘I will think about it. And it is not that I am not flattered… or that I do not want to…’

‘Then if it is not that you do not want to, may I take it that you do want to…?’

She gave me a long and lingering look and then turned back towards the coach house.

‘Come on. The food will be here soon. And you went to so much trouble, it would be a shame for it to spoil…’

I let the subject lie over supper and during the evening when Thiriston and Canadion joined us. We laid plans, talked about sailing, discussed the best way to go about moving to the port and generally did all we could towards planning our future. 

At one point I dialled Triwathon’s number and put him on speaker phone.

‘It is wonderful, my king, to know you are still here. And our prince? And... everyone?’

It was a tactful way of asking who was with us, for he could not, of course, say the name of any he believed were dead. So Govon announced himself, and Nestoril, Thiriston and Canadion spoke greetings aloud, and after Triwathon had time to acknowledge us all, he paused before continuing, his voice almost shy.

‘You will have wondered about your advisor – not Lord Arveldir – but Parvon...?’

‘Indeed, yes; in truth, I have missed his counsel,’ I said, uniting politeness and truth, for Parvon had been a very good fellow, not as devious as Arveldir but more straightforward; he was just what the new, reformed realm needed after the War of the Ring. ‘Have you news of him?’

‘He is here. With me... I do not know if you remember, we...’

‘Of course I remember,’ I said firmly.

‘Sire? Can it be you?’ Parvon’s voice, distorted by the speakers, still somehow sounded emotional. ‘We had lost hope, almost...’

‘Parvon. You served us well and we are pleased to know you are still safe.’

‘If you are in need of my services again, sire, I will gladly come.’

‘It is time for us to gather and decide our future. Some of us will sail; you and Triwathon are welcome to share our voyage, if you will. But in the interim, and if you wish it, there is a place for you both here in Leeds; at the very least your organisational skills will be invaluable.’

‘This is wonderful news, my king!’ Triwathon said. ‘Let us have a little time... it is a shock and a joy to know...’

‘Of course. Perhaps my secretary can call you tomorrow.’

‘Yes, indeed... who will call?’

‘Canadion.’

‘Ah. Gladly, sire.’

 

In quiet moments I used the laptop to investigate marriage protocols and special licences and wedding dress shops, emailing the links surreptitiously to Nestoril, who glanced at her phone and quirked her lips at me.

‘What’s this?’ the very curious Canadion asked, peering over her shoulder. ‘Oh, that’s a pretty gown! Who’s getting married?’

‘Nobody,’ Nestoril said, switching her phone off with a sniff.

‘Nobody, indeed!’ I said. ‘But not for want of asking…’

Nestoril flushed.

‘What’s this?’ Legolas asked with a grin. ‘Has he finally decided to ask you, then? Adar, it’s about time! You should have done that millennia ago!’

‘And who is to say I have not?’ I asked, tipping my head back to look at Nestoril from under my eyelashes. ‘Perhaps Nestoril just needed a little thinking time?’

‘It would be perfect,’ Legolas said. ‘Govon and I had been hoping for this, back in the days when…’

‘You would not object, then?’ Ness asked. ‘But what about your mother…?’

‘She is still my mother, Ness. But the fëa wants what the fëa wants, and Ada’s wants you. Do not forget, my Naneth had her chance, my father would have made her his queen, his everything. That she chose not to accept, is her business. Maybe we will get a chance to ask her, maybe not. But I would be happy to see you two married… come, you know what you said this morning? That the things that make me happy are the things that are likely to anchor me…’

‘Your father told me I could think about it!’ she protested.

‘Well, haven’t you had long enough?’ Canadion asked. ‘I want to be your bridesmaid!’

‘Oh, well, in that case. Of course I will marry you, Thranduil. Just so that Canadion can be a bridesmaid!’

I reached over to kiss her cheek.

‘Ness, I don’t care why, just thank you for saying yes.’ I glanced around the room. ‘I don’t suppose any of you have experience of planning a Sixth Age wedding? Canadion. Why am I not surprised?’

*

‘Why do I feel I’m being hurried into this?’ Ness asked when we were alone later.

‘Because we must sail in less than a month.’

‘I’d better hand in my notice, then,’ she said lightly.

 

The next day’s work took me around the region again, looking at one museum after another. I saw many interesting places, but no elves except those I took with me in the car.

On the way back to Leeds I called Peters and made an appointment to see him. I say ‘appointment’; really, it seemed to be that whatever I needed, whenever I needed it, Peters was only too happy to accommodate my requirements. Or so he said.

‘How may I help you today?’ he asked as we settled ourselves in his office.

‘To begin, the third let will probably be occupied by the end of the week; I thought it a courtesy to keep you informed.’

‘I see... well, it is the first time I can remember that all three properties have been in use at once... ‘

‘In fact, it may not be needed for long; a family reunion. Which leads me to ask about good hotels for temporary guests near to Woodford...?’

‘There are some, but the better hotels are either in the city or on the outskirts...’

‘I see. A list would be helpful. Or if there are any temporary lets near my home. And the reason for the reunion leads me on to my main purpose...’

‘Yes, Professor King?’

‘I intend getting married. It must be done in haste…’

‘Oh, yes?’ he said with a blink that suggested he could guess why, his eyes sliding across to rest, in what was meant to be a surreptitious manner, on Canadion’s belly. 

‘Do not make crass assumptions,’ I said, obscurely insulted by Peters’ casual glances. ‘More haste than that, in any case. Within the month, certainly, and the sooner the better. I do not particularly care where, as long as it is done properly and formally. And not to my secretary here, who is married to another, I had expected you to realise that... I will forbear to mention the matter to Thiriston, however, and not least because he is, as you will remember, extremely strong. He is also very protective of his wife and does not have the calmest of tempers.... Well?’

‘Then... my apologies, of course. And my congratulations... Given the right arrangements; special licence... a word in the right ear, a monetary lining in the right pocket... you can have anywhere, anything you want, if you’ve got enough money for it.’

‘Make whatever arrangements are necessary to expedite the ceremony and let me know the soonest date possible without breaking any laws; all must be proper. My secretary will liaise with you concerning other organisational aspects.’

Because of course it was Canadion whom I asked exactly what was involved, and who talked me through wedding rings and the need for an engagement ring (for the lady), dresses and best men and bridesmaids and giving away and guests and the absolute necessity for bunting; just because one was marrying in haste did not mean it could not be romantic, too, he assured me, and bunting, apparently, was necessary for the right ambience. I decided not to argue.

I wasn’t quite sure why it was so desperately important to me to marry Nestoril before we left Middle Earth – yes, it was partly because I wanted her to know I loved her, and my former consort would be no threat to her, to us – and partly for myself. I needed to belong to this amazingly strong elleth who had cared for me and my family in one way and another for so many years, and to own the right to acknowledge my love for her for eternity.

I teased her, of course. I said that, apart from anything else, it seemed like the perfect excuse to gather everyone together, whether they would sail with us or not; it was excellent cover, of sorts, and would make it much easier to discuss leaving and where we would stay while the ship was preparing, and she smiled prettily and reminded me it had been my idea and who was she, a humble healer, to argue with her king...?

Of course, there were many other arrangements to make beside that of the wedding. More elves, just a few, responded to the increased publicity surrounding me, and Canadion, having been diligent in contacting all those we had details for, had also asked those elves if they knew any others, delighting in putting old friends back together. There were some who said at once that they were not eager to sail, but we invited them to the wedding anyway, so that we could at least look at each other one last time, hoping that if we did not pressurise them, they might be more amenable to changing their minds.

It helped that when Triwathon arrived to take up the last of the lets he brought Parvon with him. They seemed highly content with each other, and Parvon lost no time in reinstating himself as my advisor, making himself useful within hours of his arrival.

He and Triwathon had been in loose contact with other Silvans and had put them back in touch with me, resulting in a Saturday morning when I found myself waiting outside the entrance to Woodford as half a dozen refugees from the modern world disembarked from the Merc and looked around them with wondering eyes. There was Celeguel, one of my erstwhile captains, and Amathel, another of my former warriors. Thannor and Langon, whom I knew only slightly, surviving faces from the standing army, Glawon, whom I remembered from the palace and Silevon, one of the few elves who had been born since the world changed. 

All wore hats on their long hair and looked out of place against the Merc. Only once Seamus had unloaded their luggage, received orders for his dismissal and driven off and they were able to turn towards the trees did they begin to look anything like comfortable.

‘Welcome,’ I said, spreading my hands as they bowed. ‘And be easy. I am not your ruler now, just your protector, if you would have one. Later, you will all come to my home and we will talk about our plans, but you will wish to know where you will be living, to feel at home first. For the moment, Celeguel and Amathel, you will be guests of Thiriston and Canadion, who have rooms at the top of the building...’ I smiled to myself. Thiriston had always made a big show of jealousy, mostly to protect his Canadion, and so giving them female housemates was a sensible decision. Besides, he had taught Amathel the art of knife-throwing and both had worked with Celeguel in the long-ago. ‘The rest of you will share the ground floor apartment with Triwathon and Parvon; I do not know what arrangements you may wish to make amongst yourselves, but currently their guest room and their dining room have been set up as twin bedrooms.’

Parvon came forward from my side.

‘It is not ideal, but we have lived through worse, and at least we are together and amongst friends. Celeguel, Amathel, let me give charge of our friends over to Triwathon and then I will take you up to Thiriston and Canadion.’

Celeguel approached me as Parvon ushered his charges in.

‘Sire, it is a delight to find you well. Is it true, will we sail?’

‘I think the time has come when we must,’ I said, wondering what I might possibly do to help any who were determined not to. ‘But leave that for the moment; we have survived, we are here. All will be well.’

She smiled.

‘Sire, it already is well.’

My home was rather full, that night. Merlinith and Araspen were staying for the weekend in the third room in the coach house, and all my existing friends and family, with the addition of six newcomers, made for quite a gathering. After we had broken bread together we decided to go out into the woods with the wine and the lanterns and spend the rest of the evening as we had done in the old, good days after the shadow had lifted.

We spread out amongst the trees and talked softly about our future. To my surprise, there was less resistance to the idea of sailing than I had feared, and so my rough contingency plan – to buy them a wooded estate where they could all congregate and be safe together – looked as if it would not be required. We discussed plans and ended the evening in song, celebrating our reunion and hopeful for the days ahead.

I really had not thought we had done anything wrong, but early in the week Seamus, come to take me home from work, handed me a letter.

‘Mr Peters asked me to give you this, my lord. He said it would be quicker than trusting the postal service.’

It was a complaint. 

Almost all of the human tenants, it seemed, had taken exception to the recent arrivals and had appended their names to the document. They claimed the new tenants were noisy, dirty, long-haired gay hippies and they had been seen taking part in strange ceremonies in the woods and there was concern that the newcomers were part of a cult. The pre-existing tenants wished to make their displeasure known and it was the property owner’s duty to sort this out at once. 

Since Peters had also included a copy of the standard tenancy agreement, once I got in I handed the whole lot over to Parvon who rubbed his hands together with glee.

‘Oh, thank you, sire!’ he said. ‘It will be a pleasure to assist you with this matter.’

It must be said I quite enjoyed the ensuing encounters as we progressed from one flat to another to confront the complainants in person; needless to say, the discovery that the owner of the building was one of the alleged noisy, dirty, long-haired gay cultists was a bit of a shock to some.

‘There is nothing in the tenancy agreements concerning sexual orientation, hair styles or religious leanings,’ Parvon explained. ‘The accusation that these persons are dirty is quite slanderous. And as for noisy... I happen to be tenant of the ground floor apartment...’ 

Here he paused to raise an eyebrow. We were in discussions with the tenants of the flat adjacent to Thiriston’s on the top floor. He repeated, verbatim, a conversation between the tenant and a visitor to the third floor flat concerning the purchase of a quantity of illegal substances.

‘Now, I think if anyone has entitlement to complain...’

Still, given that they were neighbours to Canadion and Thiriston, who were known to be accidentally vocal in the pursuit of marital pleasures, I did offer to install soundproofing in the disgruntled tenant’s apartment in return for which they would cease their nefarious dealings... and asked Parvon to enquire of Adrian’s when this particular tenancy was due to end...

One woman, on the second floor, looked rather guilty and invited us in, offered us drinks even.

‘Oh, it’s nothing personal, really, but I always sign these things,’ she said. ‘Otherwise you get accused of being on the ‘other side’, and I don’t think they expected anyone to take any notice; the agents never did. So you really own it all, then?’

‘Professor King does, indeed, own the building but has only just returned from living away,’ Parvon explained. ‘The lets have been in the care of an agency...’

‘Well, ‘care’ is an odd word... they do the bare minimum of work and say it’s because the building is listed... and they still put up the rents and claim it’s to cover the extra costs of maintaining the place! If it was me, I’d wonder where all that money was going...’

‘How interesting!’ I said. ‘I will certainly investigate. Now, as to the particular accusations...’

‘I liked the singing,’ she said. ‘It’s very soft... I’ve always loved Welsh choirs... and no, actually, I don’t agree with any of that rubbish on there. The new people are anything but dirty and I love the hair...’ She was careful not to look at either me or Parvon as she said this. ‘And the lass in the top flat, Candy, the one with the pretty shoes? She’s ever so friendly. Always a smile and a nice word.’

I nodded.

‘In fact, she is my secretary. Do, please, feel free to contact me personally at the coach house should you have issues with any of the tenants, new or pre-existing; I would be only too happy to assist. Particularly with those who began this petition.’


	22. Married

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil and Nestoril are married, and more Silvans arrive to help share the day...

Time passed, I visited museums, Canadion received a parcel from Merlinith and Araspen which contained copious bunting in shades of blue and silver, more Silvans found their way to Woodford until we were really rather cramped and had to swing hammocks in the garage for three of our guests; even the guest room in the coach house was occupied. Fortunately, the Silvans who found themselves in the outbuilding were surprisingly amenable to the awkward quarters.

‘It is better than some of the places I have lived,’ one said. ‘And Master Parvon has said we may use his and Triwathon’s flat during the day; it is a small hardship compared with the great good of finding so many friends in one place after so long.’

In truth on the day before the official wedding, our numbers swelled further; Calithilon and Erthor arrived in Leeds with the last of their commune – some dozen or so elves in all – and with Parvon’s assistance, booked into a local hotel of reasonable quality before coming to Woodford.

We gathered in Parvon and Triwathon’s flat – their living room was the most spacious – to discuss old times and new while we waited for darkness to fall.

‘It is wonderful to reunite in this way,’ one of the commune Silvans said. ‘Worth the journey, even though the human world is hard and unpleasant... but I must ask, does our king command us to sail?’ 

Before Erthor could answer, I shook my head.

‘I am no longer anyone’s king,’ I said. ‘There will be a ship, with room on board for as many of you as wish to come with us. But I would not command, nor compel, any to follow me thence.’

‘I’m going,’ Govon said. ‘And many of you know I’ve always refused before. But that was from pride, not fear, and... and I risked losing the dearest person in the world to me by insisting on staying. I count myself lucky he is still here with me now, and that Thranduil is arranging to take us home with him. Please, look into your own hearts and decide whether you wish to sail or to stay. But remember, you may be here a long time alone.’

‘I will make arrangements, such as I can, for those of you who do not take ship,’ I said. ‘And there will be time to discuss this further. For the moment, however, you have been invited for the wedding tomorrow. Ahead of that, however, Legolas has agreed to be our Witness this night as Nestoril and I speak our vows in the traditional manner. I hope you will all join us in the woods presently. Canadion has all the details.’

*

Nestoril and I left them then, returning to the coach house to prepare our hearts before we immersed ourselves in the woods. It struck me, as we followed a path delineated by strands of bunting, that the ensuing ceremony would probably fall under the definition of ‘strange rites and goings-on...’ which had so alarmed many of the Woodford human tenants; well, let them complain; we would not be here long enough for it to matter in any case.

There was a glade of mixed willow and silver birch near where a stream flowed through the wooded valley beyond my boundary wall, and it was there that preparations had been made. Blankets had been spread for seating, a few folding chairs had made their appearance, and Legolas stood waiting for us under a fine willow. He smiled in the darkness which was punctuated only by one small lantern. This he now covered and set down.

‘Ada. Ness. Govon’s gone to tell them it’s time, shouldn’t be long now.’

Around us came soft sounds as the glade filled with Silvans. Presently, Legolas bid everyone welcome and heard our vows. We called on the Valar to witness our intent as we promised ourselves to each other forever, beyond the boundaries of the world and until the stars fell from the skies.

We exchanged tokens of our promises and, finally, Legolas gave the traditional blessing, ‘Live in love and light!’

All those gathered there uncovered lanterns and torches, lifting them high to show that we would forever walk in the light of the Valar, and we returned to our now-crowded coach house secure in the knowledge that whatever happened next, we were promised, each to the other, for to us, this felt like the real ceremony with the formal, sixth-age wedding rites being secondary in importance.

*

Secondary or not, the day dawned to great anticipation, Nestoril whisked away, protesting, to be pampered and prepared and kept out of sight (some bizarre human tradition) while Legolas and Govon pretended to help my own preparations.

Nestoril and I were married at 12 noon on a Thursday afternoon in a simple ceremony according to the laws of the land in a beautiful function room bedecked with flowers and Canadion’s bunting. Where the text called for us to say ‘God’, in our hearts we named Eru Ilúvatar and trusted to him and the Valar to watch over us and our elves and light our way; to me, our avowal ceremony in the woods had been far more heartfelt, but the formal rituals bound us legally and was an opportunity to share with our human friends.

It was, in fact, quite a turn out, with at least three dozen Silvans, hats pulled well down over their ears, mingling with the smaller human contingent of guests who were entirely unaware how outnumbered they were.

Ness looked stunning in a pale blue long gown, Canadion wore a darker blue dress, and skyscraper heels with red soles, Govon brought Nestoril to my side and Legolas stood by me as my ‘best man’. 

The thing took place at a rather grand hotel some way outside Leeds, and we had, of course, invited as many of our fellow elves as we could. Not all had found their way to Woodford in time for the woodland rites, so that the formal occasion became something of a reunion, as well as a celebration of our marriage. Because it was for the wedding, I was able to pay for the guests’ travel as well as rooms at the hotel for everyone so that we would have plenty of time, away from Woodford, to discuss our plans. I was relieved that at how our numbers had swelled, and it was delightful to see so many newly-found Silvans sharing the day with us. 

Ness and I having decided to use the Rolls as our wedding car, Seamus had co-opted another driver to ferry people up from the railway station in the Merc. I had discovered, too, that several of our newer Silvan tenants could drive and were willing to bring others from the house with them, and their cars now mingled with others in the parking spaces, less conspicuous than their drivers.

Although we had gladly shared the ceremony with our human friends, we had, somewhat arbitrarily, perhaps, invited the human contingent only to the evening party so that we could relax amongst our Silvans during the afternoon and early evening; it would have been too difficult to restrict our conversation were Lily present, for example. 

However, I did limit the topics discussed somewhat.

‘No talking about cruises or ships today,’ I said firmly, more than once to my kinsmen. ‘There are those amongst us who are uneasy with the thought of sailing. Besides, this is mine and Nestoril’s wedding day. If you wish to discuss matters maritime, speak privately to Canadion. She has all the information.’

There were a few smiles at my use of the feminine pronoun, and glances at the human waiters who were serving our meal and manning the bar, but nobody made any comments about Canadion’s adoption of female garb.

Once the meal was cleared and we were certain that everyone in the room was relaxed and content and busy talking over old times, just as Legolas was going to nod to me that the announcements were going to begin, Ness slipped away with a glance, but without saying a word. Thinking it some kind of invitation, I followed her up to the bridal suite.

The entire top floor of the hotel was reserved for us and our guests for two nights, and the bridal suite had stunning views out over woodland. Sounds of the gathering drifted up from below, distant, helping us remove ourselves from the unreality of the day; Silvan parties, I remembered, could get rather exuberant, and although we had left all calm, without a guiding hand it was likely to get wild quickly... Of course, I expected there to be a wildness to the celebrations later on; we had all thought ourselves lost, isolated, alone, and now we were come together all in one place it would be almost inevitable not to express that in exuberance. 

My wife was waiting outside the room for me. She slipped her hand into mine, and pulled me back into the bridal suite, onto the bed, and we made sure our marriage was properly, formally enshrined in law and I forgot to care what our guests were getting up to...

*

‘We need to go back downstairs,’ Ness said lazily after the passage of enough time for us to be missed. ‘I would rather stay here, but…’

‘Then let us stay.’

‘No, we must not.’ She pushed herself up to stare down at me, her lovely grey eyes anxious. ‘It is not often I get feelings about things, melleth-nin, anxious feelings, but I am having one now. If there is anything in this room that you want, bring it. I… I wanted to make certain you were mine now, whatever comes next. For I am very afraid, husband, that something is coming.’

‘What? Can you say?’

She shook her head as she reached for her clothes. ‘No. Simply a feeling of dread, of haste, of... I do not know. But we must be prepared.’

So there was nothing for it but to wash and dress and gather together our few transitional objects and anchorage items and make our way back down to the party.

Govon grinned as he saw us return and nudged Legolas, who looked over and winked. It made me smile and Nestoril blush as we resumed our places.

More champagne went round, another toast, and then Legolas nodded to Thiriston who left the room. Legolas got to his feet.

‘I’m glad you came back, Adar, I was going to send Canadion up to knock on your door in a minute… There’s a tradition, speeches and things, and we haven’t yet presented the gifts for the newlyweds. But my father, you already have everything you need… Except we thought of something, Adar, that we thought you would like anyway, and we all contributed in one way or another. And it has not been easy, in so short a time as we have had, to get this organised.’

Thiriston brought in a large, wide, narrow package.

‘Go and see,’ Legolas prompted.

‘Le fael, all of you,’ I said. ‘Whatever this mysterious item may be, I am most grateful.’

They had got me a bicycle. I was delighted.

‘I remembered you saying how you’d learned to manage one of these in the Discovery Centre. We’ve tried to think it through… solid tyres, so no messing around with puncture kits and where do you get patches in Valinor? And plenty of spares and all the bits you might need. It’s probably good for a century or so... and it’s even got a bell, look!’

‘I’m touched,’ I said. ‘That you remembered, that you arranged this. And I think it is traditional that the Best Man is given something, too. Duinor?’

Duinor nodded and brought out a case, presenting it to my son with a bow.

‘I hope they will please,’ he said. ‘It was a joy to work on them.’

Inside the case were two matched white knives, just like my son had always delighted in. He was almost too pleased to speak, but Duinor understood.

‘As ever, ernilen, it is an honour to serve.’

‘I… thanks are not enough, Duinor, but… they are perfect. As always. There are none these days who could hope to match your skill at folding the metals.’

There were more speeches, of course, more drinks went round. Presently, Nestoril left my side and went over to speak softly to Govon. He gave her a questioning look, but nodded and rose from his seat to follow her.

Thiriston made his way through the guests to speak to me.

‘Is something going on?’

‘Ness has a feeling. She made me bring our heirlooms. I presume she’s had a word with Govon, too…’

‘What’s up, do you know?’

I shook my head. 

‘I have no notion. But if there is anything of special significance to you…’

‘Canadion’s got his favourite shoes on, I’ve got my parents’ gemstones in my pocket. We have each other, we’re good... though, if there’s time to fetch it, there is something we wanted to take over with us... What about the others?’

‘I have the impression Ness is trying not to start a panic. I think, if it were I, and I had travelled down for a wedding, I would not risk leaving my transitional objects in a strange hotel room…’

‘Party game time, then. Let me get the Chief Bridesmaid to help. But, we are elves. We do not panic easily.’

By now it was early evening, perhaps approaching six pm, and the waiting staff were looking to usher us into a lounge while they cleared up and prepared for the main party later; we had few friends amongst the human population, but Lily and Crispin were joining us for the inevitable evening party, and some of Nestoril’s friends from the medical museum. I had invited several of the senior figures from work, and had even told Peters he would be welcome, but he declined in tones of masked horror. Perhaps it was just as well; I did not really want to socialise with the man, useful though he had been.

Canadion made an announcement.

‘So we’ll be going through in a few moments to the lounge, where we’ll have tea and coffee, and a chance to show off a little bit… and I don’t mean karaoke, that’s for later… much later…’

Once we were all assembled and the drinks served, I dismissed the staff.

‘We can serve ourselves if we want more, thank you.’

‘Wonderful!’ Canadion said once we were alone and gathered around small tables in little groups. ‘Transitional objects. What did we bring with us from the old days, what has kept us sane?’ He grinned. ‘I brought Thiriston!’

‘Looking at you, did it work?’ someone said, getting a smattering of smiles.

‘I have a few things,’ Triwathon said. ‘I have the scales from my Dragon Guard uniform. And, more precious, forgive me, Parvon, is the stopper from a bottle of honey beer…’ He glanced at Parvon next to him. ‘Oh, and the remains of my kilt.’

The look my erstwhile advisor exchanged with Triwathon was amused rather than jealous; it would seem that after many centuries of patience and much determination, Parvon had at last won Triwathon’s heart.

‘Ah, but that was not your kilt!’ he said now with a smile. ‘It was bright blue, and it belonged to the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower; it was the Seneschal of Rivendell’s kilt.’

‘Let’s see, then?’ Canadion asked. ‘Not the kilt, of course; your Dragon Guard scales... I lost mine centuries ago!’

‘I will dock your pay, Canadion, when we reach our destination,’ I told him, causing general laughter.

From inside his shirt, Triwathon drew out a chain with three rounded triangular plates; grey, black, red.

‘I had to take up playing the guitar, everyone thinks they’re plectrums. The cork and the kilt, they’re upstairs…’

‘Why don’t you fetch them?’ I suggested. ‘Any of you with anchoring objects in your rooms, why not? I have stories to share before my human friends arrive, and I have my objects to hand…’

Saithor got up from his seat.

‘I have some things. Let me get fetch them.’

*

Soon we were all gathered again together, talking through our transitional objects, remembering the old days, my Silvans bringing themselves to me in the now.

‘My items are these,’ my wife said softly. ‘And one is dust, now. Many lives ago, it seems, I was having a difficult day. And a dear and kind friend brought me two or three flowers. They were yellow, the tips of the petals darkening to orange, just wildflowers, but they brought me such comfort that I tried to preserve them. They are here, in this small bottle, powdered friendship, preserved kindness. And then I have this pin of blue stones, again in shape like a flower, a more permanent reminder of that same friendship.’

Starlight gemstones, fragments of old weapons, bits of bowstring, tokens from arm bands… all came out for inspection.

‘And there are these, too,’ Thiriston said, holding out a hand for Canadion to place a small box therein. ‘Behind this little casket is a huge story... long ago, as all here are aware, our king kept safe for us the gemstones of our honoured dead. Some of us have them still, but over the years, the collection... our history... our memories... was scattered and dispersed...’

‘But diamonds and pearls, they are precious, they are almost as enduring as elves, and on a time, we heard of a display of great jewels coming to London,’ Canadion said. ‘It was in the long ago, Victorian times, and, curious, we went to see...’

‘Recognised some of them, decided they did not belong to any human queen or foreign dignitary... stole them back.’

‘And then went and lived in the woods for six months, until the fuss died down!’ Canadion added. ‘We’d been doing the same thing off and on ever since, until lately; it’s much harder these days and, in fact, it was in the sixties, after one particular heist went a little awry, that I realised I could hide as a human female. It helped with other things, too. So, here they are. Not many, my king, but... some.’

Thiriston opened the casket with a flourish and I beheld the fire and glitter of a dozen or so diamonds, a few pearls scattered in. One of the stones was huge, as large as the moonstone in the ring I wore, but it was marred by a great flaw within that shattered its light in crazy directions. Triwathon saw it, and his hand clenched Parvon’s in sudden emotion; the advisor put a consoling arm around him for a moment, holding him close.

‘We know that stone,’ Parvon said.

‘We had thought... maybe, when we get to Valinor, our lost ones will like to have these back, if we can reunite them.’

‘A good idea. Triwathon, would you care to have that large diamond in your keeping? Parvon?’

‘We would be honoured, sire,’ Parvon said. ‘If you wish to entrust us with it, we would be glad to.’

‘Very good,’ I said. ‘So now let us put these precious things safe. Our other guests will be here soon.’


	23. A Problem With the Hotel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil talks to Lily and Seamus has some news...

The party did, indeed, get lively very quickly. The human contingent was brought in hired minibuses, arriving within twenty minutes of each other and Nestoril and I mingled and spoke loudly over the music, accepting the congratulations from the humans for a long and happy life together. I wondered what they would think if they knew how long elves that could prove to be.

Once we had greeted all our guests, I drew Lily and Crispin to one side, taking seats at a quiet corner table where Nestoril joined us; we chatted for a moment or two; Nestoril’s dress, ‘Candy’s’ heels, how happy we looked and then Lily laughed and shook her head.

‘Goodness, what a lot of friends you’ve found, Thranduil! And to think only a few weeks ago...’

‘...I was a homeless man in a borrowed tee-shirt.’ I smiled when I said it, although I had heard it so many times now... ‘Ah. You will have some champagne, I hope?’

I beckoned and someone arrived with a tray and glasses; our health was drunk, and Nestoril smiled and thanked out friends.

‘Before things grow too convivial, there is a small matter I would like to discuss with you,’ I said, beckoning Parvon across. He murmured a greeting and sat. ‘This is Parvon, who was formerly in my employ and, now we are back in touch, he is once more acting for me... you remember, perhaps, your comments on the state of repair of parts of Woodford?’

‘Yes’ Lily said, ‘I thought it was shocking, really, that lovely place allowed to fall to bits at the edges... of course, it wasn’t your fault, with you being ill and everything...’

‘Well, I have had cause to consider the matter. One of my tenants made comments which intrigued me, and since Parvon is attached to a law firm himself, he began looking into matters on my behalf. While we realised all was possibly not well where the house was concerned, and, indeed, the books indicated more money had been spent than such running repairs as have been done. It troubled me.’

‘I’m not surprised! Well, I’m surprised at Adrian’s, an old established firm like that, taking advantage... you ought to sue them, you really should... and I wouldn’t trust them with anything else, not if they’d do things like that...’

‘In fact, matters are in hand. Understand, though, Lily; it is not so much that the money was missing which angers me, but that the house was not being cared for; it has been beautiful, and should still be, but something has gone awry somewhere... however, Parvon here has been invaluable in creating an alternative plan for the building.’

In fact, in the run up to the wedding Parvon and I had been reorganising my business affairs, setting up an account with his people without Adrian’s yet being informed. This meant I was now able to approach my first friend in the modern world confident in knowing all was in proper legal order. I had also take the precaution of transferring a considerable chunk of my own money to lodge with Parvon’s lawyers, timing it so that any awkward questions from Peters or Dean would have to wait until Ness and I were officially back from what we referred to as our honeymoon but which was going to last much longer than the two weeks I had booked off work... I turned my attention once more to my human friend.

‘Before we consume too much alcohol, Lily, I have something more for you...’

‘Oh?’ 

I slid a folder across.

‘In here is a document empowering you to act on my behalf with regards to my financial affairs; it has been lodged with Parvon’s firm; I have made arrangements for my present needs.’ Suddenly it seemed wrong to deceive her further, to pretend I would be back in a matter of weeks... ‘I should mention, I suppose, that this is rather more than a honeymoon. In fact, I intend to take Nestoril and my family on a long sea voyage...’

‘But, Thranduil...’

‘Hence my mention of Woodford; it could be some time before I return there... and I would not want to think my name is associated with its neglect. Put it properly right, on my behalf, using Parvon’s plan of work. Employ expensive contractors who know their business, cut no corners. Renew the lease of the lady on the second floor, but as the others come up for renewal, do not allow the present tenants to continue. Watch the ones in the top flat, at the front; they have contact with drug dealers...’

‘Oh, is that all?’

Pretending not to recognise the sarcasm in her question, I nodded and continued. ‘In fact, there is another matter. It cannot have escaped your notice that I, my son, many of us gathered here share particular dominant genetic characteristics...’

‘Well... now you come to mention it...’ Lily’s eyes flashed to my ears, and she leaned forward a little, eager for an explanation. ‘I really didn’t like to say...’

‘I will not go into the details now,’ I said, disappointing her curiosity. ‘Suffice it to say, we are all connected, to one degree or another and have become scattered. I would like you to look out for any of my kin and extended family who need assistance, and help them. Some may also wish to take a long sea voyage... do all you can to send them on their way safely, funds will be placed at your disposal to make all easy.’

‘Why?’

‘Why? Simply, I know that you are a kind and helpful person. To think there was someone I could trust who would assist my kin would be a comfort to me.’

‘You can’t just dump all this in my lap without a reason...!’

‘I am Lord Thranduil, Professor King. I think you will find that I can, and I have. Do as you will; this is what I would like to happen, but if you do not feel up to the task, I will not hold it against you.’ I shrugged. ‘It really is of no matter.’

‘What my husband means, is that you were his first friend here,’ Nestoril put in. ‘And of all the people he has met since, you are the most sympathetic. It would mean much to us to know, while we’re away, that if any latecomers to the wedding should turn up, they would be met by a nice, friendly face.’

‘You know, it sounds to me as if you won’t be coming back at all...’

‘But you only booked two weeks off!’ Crispin interrupted, belatedly following the conversation.

‘I know; it may well be longer than that. But you are not working tonight, Crispin, you can forget all about that until I do not show up for work on the proper day. And who knows? It is possible that I might decide I miss the monkeys too much to leave...’

‘But...’

‘Lily. Enjoy your evening. Crispin, take care of her. We can talk about it later, perhaps,’ I said, rising and taking Nestoril’s hand to lead her from the table. ‘Meanwhile, I believe my son wants us... karaoke, I think.’

*

There was, indeed, that strange thing called ‘karaoke’. All elves can sing, of course, beautifully and melodically, close harmony and glorious descants, songs of starlight and memory, of the world beyond the sea and the heart-rending lays of lost and sundered loves...

This was different.

Canadion performed a song called ‘Stayin’ Alive’, which seemed appropriate, while Merlinith and Araspen duetted on ‘I Will Survive’. Even Thiriston found a song, something about being born under a ‘Wandering Star,’ his somewhat gruff voice suiting its rhythm and rough sentiment. Nestoril’s work acquaintances joined in, loudly and less-perfectly, with a song about it raining men...

I must admit, I was glad the humans were not staying overnight, and my wife and I were able to wave them off at around midnight.

Lily lingered while the rest of the human guests were finding seats in the minibus and taxis which had arrived for them.

‘You meant it, me and Crispin, look after your house for you, and any other homeless people who might turn up in the stacks?’

‘I doubt they would simply appear from thin air...’

‘Why not? You did!’

‘Yes. That was different...’ I shook my head. ‘The advertising, the articles... many of my distant cousins found my through those. There may be letters, emails... you will know my kin, of course, from the ears.’

‘I don’t know where to start with all that, Thranduil!’ she said. ‘Does that mean Candy’s leaving, too? And it’s not ever going to be my job to read your emails...’

‘I’m sure Crispin can break into my account, if he needs to. I grant permission, in the documents, there, in any case. With my password.’

‘And, just so you know, you bloody idiot Welshman or whatever you are, it’s not the ears, they’re unimportant, it’s never been the ears... it’s the eyes, it’s like there’s starlight in them, even in that big one’s, Candy’s husband’s. If you want to hide that you and your pals are different, you need sunglasses, not hats!’

And with that final piece of advice ringing in my apparently-unimportant ears, Lily nodded and swept off to the waiting minibus, leaving me gaping after her and Nestoril trying not to giggle at my shock.

*

It was thus with some relief that we went back to where my former subjects were now celebrating in true Silvan style, dancing on, around, under the tables and singing lustily. They kept it up for another hour or so, and I was just looking to take Ness away when Canadion came across and touched my elbow lightly.

‘Your pardon, sire, but Seamus is outside. He wants to talk to you. He says it’s urgent...’

‘How very odd.’

I went to the door anyway and found my chauffeur waiting in the comparative quiet of the hall. For the first time ever I though he looked anxious as he touched his ever-present cap.

‘I’m sorry, my lord, to disturb you, but it’s important.’

‘It had damn well better be! What is it?’

‘May I ask, are all your guests still up?’

‘Those who haven’t left for home already, yes. Why?’

‘Because I’m afraid there’s a problem with the hotel.’

‘What? What sort of problem?’

‘There is a bomb, my lord. It’s been set to detonate between three and four a.m. when it was considered most likely that all your party will all have retired for the night, sir.’

I tried to make sense of this. Not normally deficient in understanding, still, associating the word ‘bomb’ with my friends and family was not a happy connection, and I hoped I had suffered a lapse of misunderstanding...

‘Could you repeat that, explain, perhaps...?

‘A bomb, an explosive device. It is on the top floor, sir, in one of the airing cupboards. It will take out the entire wing, I’m afraid.’

I stared at him for a moment as the old, familiar threat-responses crashed over me; my mouth felt dry, suddenly, drained of moisture, my eyesight felt as if it had sharpened. I became almost preternaturally aware of sounds I had not noticed a moment before; the voices of the serving staff, their timbre different from the musical tones of my Silvans. The blood rushed in my veins, my pulse doubled, my heart pounding as my body readied itself for attack... 

I took a breath, trying to harness my heightened senses, to be calm in spite of the news. 

After all, I had faced all manner of disasters in my time, I reminded myself. This one did not seem likely to chase us through the forest waving swords or breathing fire at us, so I controlled my panic.

‘How do you know?’

‘Because, my lord, I have been handsomely paid to ensure that the gentlemen employed to fit the device got in and out of the hotel discreetly.’

His eyes flickered and he tensed, as if expecting me to attack him. True, I was tempted, but I was in control of my rage and alarm and Seamus had at least seen fit to warn me... realising he was safe from physical onslaught for the moment at least, Seamus continued.

‘However, I do not think it occurred to my employers that I might wish to share the information with you; I hope it will go some way towards an apology, my lord. Is there anything I can do to help?’


	24. Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which, with Seamus' help, Thranduil gets his people away from the hotel...

‘What?’ I asked again.

‘If I can help facilitate your removal from the hotel, perhaps...? You still have at least an hour to make your escape, but the further away you are by the time the device detonates, the better. I can only repeat, my lord, I really am very sorry...’

‘I should hope so... Why are you telling me this?’

‘You’ve been a good employer, sir. And… well, it would shame me to know I could have prevented your death and that of your family and friends… people like you, sir – you shouldn’t die, it’s wrong, it’s – that is... If you leave now, my lord, you can all be well out of the way when the bomb goes off.’

‘Should we not contact the authorities?’

‘We could, but then it will be known that you survived. And your would-be assassins will just come after you again. And your wife and your son.’

‘Who will? Who has done this?’

‘Mr Dean and Mr Peters, sir. Suffice it to say that they have been indulging themselves at your expense and are worried that you will find out. In fact, I think they are already concerned that you suspect something...’  
I wanted to ask how he knew, but now was not the moment; we needed to take our leave of the hotel as soon as possible.

‘Thank you, Seamus. Wait here, I’ll get everyone organised.’

I went back into the hall and turned the volume down on the karaoke, cutting Govon off in the middle of a sterling performance of ‘Bat out of Hell’.

‘Honour-Ada! I wasn’t that bad!’

‘I am sorry, Govon.’ I switched to Sindarin and raised my voice, remembering my kingly tones of yore as I addressed my Silvans. ‘I hope you can all still understand me… good. We are going to leave the hotel at once, something has happened to make it imperative that we depart in haste. If you have anything you must bring with you, get it, but do not encumber yourselves.’ After all, where most of us were going we were unlikely to need the products of Middle Earth… ‘We will not all fit into the Rolls and the Merc, so we’ll need to take taxis… that will entail currency… Those of you who brought cars, I need to ask for your driving skills and the use of your vehicles tonight – that’s if any of you are still fit to drive. If so, if one could drive whichever vehicle Seamus does not.’

‘We’re all fit to drive,’ Govon said. ‘Duinor’s not drunk much, though.’

‘Can you drive, Duinor?’ I asked him.

‘I can, sire. But I don’t understand?’

‘No more do I, really. We must leave, come, hurry.’ 

‘My king?’ Parvon was at my elbow, Triwathon with him. ‘How may we help?’

‘I want everyone gathered and ready in ten minutes, if you could make sure they understand; we must all leave, even those who do not wish to sail, none of us can stay here. Bring them to the reception area in the main building; I’m going to speak to Seamus about the cars.’

*

He was outside, looking at the Merc with heartbreak in his eyes.

‘I think this is the greatest number of passengers I will have ever asked you to drive, Seamus. You will have to have someone in the passenger seat tonight, I fear.’

‘My lord, I don’t think I’m driving you anywhere. There appears to be a bomb under the car. As soon as we turn the engine over…’

‘But that would kill you, too.’

‘Yes, regrettably, I realise that, sir. The Rolls has a flat tyre; presumably because it is known you favour it, and so if you were to escape the blast you would be diverted immediately to the Merc with the bomb…’

I walked over to where it was parked; I could see nothing but all at once the vehicle felt evil, tainted.

‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s not that simple.’

‘My lord?’

‘I prefer the Rolls; you prefer the Merc, Seamus. So once your part is played, your instructions were…?’

‘To see the installation complete and leave, and make sure I was prompt collecting your party in the morning… and Mr Peters would, as you say, know I would go to the Merc… but having spotted the bomb…’

‘You would then come to the Rolls and try to change the tyre. Can you open the hood or the boot from here?’

‘Yes…’

‘The hood, please; I wish to remove the figurine. We are not going to be able to use this car either, I think. I would guess that if there is another bomb, it will be probably on a timer so that you would be some way down the road before it activates.’

‘Because if it went off before the hotel bomb detonates, you would all come rushing out to see…’

‘Either that or the brake cables will have been cut or something equally unimaginative.’

I reached out and unscrewed the figure on the front; my little elf maiden on the bonnet was not going to be blown to pieces or smashed to bits along with the car.

‘That was risky, sir.’

‘True. But she is mine. I had not known it was possible to grow to love a car… Now, come, what do you suggest? There are now almost two score of us and a bicycle…’

‘A bicycle, my lord?’

‘It was a wedding present, from all of them,’ I said apologetically. ‘Everything but my wife and my son and son-in-law I would abandon if I must, but to leave the bicycle and the bag of spares would cost me...’

‘Really, sir? Perhaps an airport minibus or two or three…?’

‘Good. Arrange with the hotel staff, will you?’ 

It was by now 1.45 am, and although Seamus had said the bomb wouldn’t detonate before 3 am, I did not want to linger. I made my way to the central block of the hotel and its main reception, trying to think of an excuse to explain our sudden urge to leave.

Some of my guests were already gathered, with their luggage around them, but before I could ask why they were so encumbered, the night manager of the hotel came forward, an expression of anxious enquiry on his face. He, too, had been informed I was Lord Thranduil, and so seemed determined not to take offence at the fact that I appeared to be about to decamp from his lovely hotel in the early hours of the morning.

‘Is there a problem, my lord? How can we help?’

‘Yes… not your fault, the hotel and service has been excellent. But a miscommunication… we have to leave within the next hour. Not all of us are fit to drive our cars; those vehicles that remain, leave them be, someone will come for them. Of course we will still settle the bill in full through Adrian’s of Leeds as agreed.’

‘Very good, sir… thank you.’

Seamus came over from where he’d been using the telephone and inclined his head to me.

‘There are three minibuses on their way, my lord, to take us to the airport, ten minutes or so. I explained the urgency, that you were misinformed as to the time of your flights...’

‘Very well.’ I extended my hand to the manager. ‘Thank you again for your attention; it really is a very fine hotel.’

Parvon approached to incline his head.

‘I thought it best to suggest everyone wait outside, sire; I do not know why our friends here have not followed instructions...’

‘They are Erthor and Calithilon’s commune elves; perhaps they misunderstood.’

Parvon ushered them out and we joined the rest of the guests, now congregating around the front steps. Contrary to my instructions, it appeared everyone had brought all their luggage, and it was only Ness drawing me to one side that stopped me from demanding to know what was going on.

‘Most of us are about to get into airport transfer minibuses,’ she said. ‘If we don’t have any luggage with us, what will they think?’

‘Does it matter?’

‘It might, it could make us memorable.’

‘And with so many of us displaying our rather unusual ears, we are not memorable?’

‘Well, more so.’ She smiled. ‘With luggage, it looks like we’re getting on a plane. Without, the matter could be debated.’

Just then the three vehicles turned in at the hotel gates. I looked down at my wife.

‘Is it foolish of me, Ness, to insist on bringing the bicycle?’

‘You didn’t have to sit through hours of Legolas and Govon and Canadion organising it all. No, and they would be terribly hurt if you didn’t at least get to ride it.’

I pressed a kiss to her forehead.

‘I’ll keep you safe,’ I said. ‘Whatever it takes.’

‘I do not care about safe,’ she said. ‘I care about being with you. Whatever we’re heading into.’

Seamus approached.

‘I’ve arranged for us to go to Manchester Airport, sir, madam. It’s a logical destination, and there are plenty of hotels there.’

‘We’re booked in at a hotel in Liverpool from tomorrow so that suits perfectly. Thank you.’

‘I understand, my lord, but will not Mr Peters know where you are staying? He gave me the address, after all, since I thought I would be driving you there... it might be wise to seek another hotel in the area where you’re less likely to be discovered…’

‘Yes, of course, the booking was made by Adrian’s... Seamus? Just what is going on here?’

‘May I tell you later, my lord? Or on the way?’

Duinor’s car had a rack attached to it the sole purpose of which seemed to be the safe transportation of bicycles, so I entrusted my wedding gift into his care along with the bag of spare parts. He offered seats to Merlinith and Araspen, earning him a grateful look from Govon.

The rest of us split into several parties; I stayed with my family – which seemed now to include Canadion and Thiriston – and went with Seamus in the front vehicle while the others divided between the private cars of friends and the other minibuses.

‘It will be about an hour, perhaps a little more,’ Seamus said. ‘We will make a stop so you can use cash machines locally since if you use one after the… event, you could be traced.’

‘I could be traced in any event…’

‘But only to West Yorkshire, my lord, not to Manchester.’

‘I have a substantial amount of currency as it is,’ I said.

‘But if we won’t be able to draw more, and we have to wait for several days,’ Ness said, ‘it will be sensible for as many of us as possible to do that.’

The minibus pulled in near a brightly-lit square in a wall in a small town not too far away, and we disembarked and queued politely amongst ourselves to withdraw as much cash as was allowed. I had several different debit cards and so was able to come away with a substantial amount of money. Nestoril, too, took out some cash and we retreated to the minibus while the rest followed suit. The three drivers exchanged glances at each other and shrugged.

Presently, all suitably be-cashed, we were ready to continue, and drove off once more.

‘If you’ll accept advice, it would be a good idea to pay with cash at the hotel,’ Seamus said. ‘Again, it’s the electronic paper trail…’

‘Very well. Somewhere cheap?’

‘Better not; you are a very distinctive party, my lord. A more expensive hotel is more likely to turn a blind eye…’

Just over an hour later we had paid off the mini buses and were booking in to one of the hotels near Manchester International Airport. I was not really comfortable, although all was clean and tidy.

‘I think it is the transitory nature of these places,’ I said to Nestoril as we set down our scant luggage in the double room assigned to us. ‘But I do not feel at ease.’

‘I think I understand,’ she said, removing her jacket and unfastening her dress. ‘So you had better come to bed and let me help you relax; this is our wedding night, what’s left of it.’

*

After a night of intermittent love and reverie, eventually daylight filtered through the blinds. Nestoril ordered breakfast to be brought to our room, and while waiting for it to arrive she put on the television in time for the news. The headlines were all about a hotel in West Yorkshire which had been devastated by an explosion overnight. Two staff had been slightly injured, but no-one killed, and police were looking for the driver of either a blue Rolls Royce or a silver Mercedes found at the scene. A wedding party had a lucky escape, leaving the building just an hour before the accident and police would be interested in talking to any of the guests on the following number in case they saw anything suspicious…

‘I think we need to warn Seamus,’ Nestoril said.

‘I think you’re right.’

We ate our meal, showered and dressed, and made our way down to the lobby where Seamus was already waiting. He had changed out of his uniform into jeans and a hooded jacket and a dark hat pulled low.

I took a seat next to him while Ness looked through a few magazines on a table nearby.

‘The television is full of news of the hotel. They’re looking for a driver, so I’m glad you’ve changed out of the uniform.’

‘I do apologise for being out of uniform, my lord. It seemed safest. I think the police will find evidence to point them towards the driver I hired to do the station runs in the Merc… and also to the ones who installed the device… Did you see that the bomb in the Merc was faulty? It was timed to detonate just after the main blast. And there was a terminal fault with the brakes on the Rolls?’

‘No, we missed that.’

‘It seems that Mr Peters wanted to tidy up all the loose ends… it was a bit of a surprise to realise he was prepared to kill me to do so.’ My chauffeur looked for a moment world-weary, defeated. ‘When he told me he had a wedding surprise arranged for you, and I was to smuggle two persons into the hotel, I wondered why he seemed happy to involve me... Of course, he did not inform me why I was to do so; I discovered that myself... so there really was no reason for him to arrange an accident for me... and I had served them loyally, sir, right up until the moment when I had to decide between serving them or you, sir.’

‘Seamus, but for you… I am in your debt, my wife and my son and his partner and all our friends… whatever is in my power to do to protect you, I will.’

‘Thank you, my lord. I will have a favour to ask – not yet, I want to see you safe myself, first… perhaps if I knew what you intended, I might be able to help more... Do you really need to go to Liverpool, for example? Once Mr Peters realises you have escaped, he may look for you there… and if I may, your friend Mrs Dunbar, when she hears the news will be most anxious. But unless your mobile phone is switched off, it can be traced, so if the authorities begin seeking you and she passes on your contact details it could be difficult.’

‘Lily doesn’t know where we’re going. Besides, it is early; I doubt she will be up yet.’ I reached for my phone and glanced at it; I had switched it off on arriving at the hotel for the wedding and, as I had thought, had not bothered to switch it on again. ‘Perhaps, if we can be traced as far as here, I should leave my phone behind when we leave... What is all this about, Seamus? You said you would tell me later, and I think it is later, now…’

Nestoril laid her hand on my arm, a gentle interruption.

‘I’m going to order some coffee. Will Seamus have some?’

‘It would hardly be proper, my lord…’

‘You are not really an employee any more, Seamus,’ I said. ‘You are more of a valuable associate, or, I rather suspect, a very good friend. Please, drink coffee with us.’

‘I’d have said, part of our extended family, myself,’ Ness said with her friendly smile. ‘Do you take it black like these brave souls do, or with cream?’

‘And sugar, I’m afraid.’

Over coffee, Seamus began explaining.

‘I’ve not been privy to much of Mr Dean’s plans, my lord, you understand. But once I realised something was going on, I kept alert. It seems Adrian’s had standing orders to maintain certain things for your return, or that of your descendants, sir, I perhaps should say. It is a service they offer to a number of individuals, not all of them of such good standing as you, my lord...’

‘What do you mean, Seamus?’ Nestoril asked.

‘Before I was needed to drive your husband, Mrs King, I sometimes was sent to collect a client in one of the firm’s cars, sometimes from establishments of detention... of course, I would not like to assume that such persons were criminals; they may simply have been using, for example, Her Majesty’s Prison, Armley, as a useful meeting place...’

‘So Adrian’s provides a service to people who had... lost touch with their old lives?’ Ness asked. ‘Whatever those lost lives might be?’

‘For sufficient reimbursement, yes; for your husband, Adrian’s maintained the cars, a driver, accommodation, clothing… and the firm was paid a good retainer for the privilege of doing nothing, it seems, for long spaces of time. I was retained in this way too, sir, told it was a sinecure, that there was a flat over the garage and all I had to do was maintain the cars, occasionally collect someone and bring them to the office, and be prepared to take up full-time work if you appeared.’

His face relaxed into a smile as he sipped his coffee.

‘I must admit, my lord, I was very glad when you arrived, and even more pleased that you were not connected with the criminal fraternity. But in the meantime, every few weeks Mr Peters or Mr Dean would send for me and one or other of your cars. I should say, you know about the Bentley, but I didn’t mention to you that it isn’t actually in need of repair – it is the one they liked to... borrow, but then, the Bentley, sir, is really not at all appropriate for you. It has one of these privacy grills, except not a terribly good one.’ Seamus gave a grim smile. ‘So I heard things. The hall – they were supposed to maintain it to the highest standards, instead of which they siphoned off much of the fabric fund. Other things, too… your return, my lord, came as a real shock; I was privy to a conversation where by Mr Dean expressed to Mr Peters his hope that you would simply disappear again. I think they only grew excessively concerned once they realised you had a son and heir.

‘Because of course, a person cares more about the future when they have descendants to consider,’ I put in.

‘In fact, sir, I rather felt they were afraid you would notice something amiss sooner or later; you were not at all like their usual clients.’ 

‘I think I am glad to hear it. Seamus, thank you. Of course, I have no way of knowing that you would not go to Peters and tell him you have us all nicely collected here in this hotel and giving Adrian’s the opportunity to pin the blame for the explosion on me...’

‘My lord, I... I would not...’

‘No. I know you would not. You are vastly outnumbered, my friend Parvon has made a study of the law and having, in fact, retained a very good firm in my name, he has lodged with them such proof as we ourselves have already discovered about irregularities with the Woodford property. Any attempt to betray us to Adrian’s would only backfire on you. But that is not why, Seamus; I simply do not believe you would do such a thing.’

‘No more do I,’ Ness said. ‘But what now, melleth?’

‘We will need to speak to… Dan,’ I said. ‘Seamus, we intend leaving the country. All of us, or very nearly all; an associate in Liverpool is helping. It is a private matter, so I haven’t told anyone at Adrian’s about it. So, yes, we do need to go to Liverpool, or at least near enough that we can contact our associate.’

‘Very well, my lord. The phone, it might be as well to get another, and dispose of your current one as discussed, just in case. You could stay in a hotel outside Liverpool – over the river on the Wirral might be a good choice, it is often overlooked.’

‘Very well. Minibuses, again?’

‘It’s possible to get a train all the way to Liverpool and then another across to the town on the far side of the river. It would probably cost less to hire transport, but we would be leaving more of a trail that way.’

From where we sat, we could see through into the breakfast hall where several of my elves were eating… My elves? Of course, they were their own elves after all this time, no longer my subjects. But under my protection. After all, it had been at my suggestion they had sought me out.

Nestoril set down her coffee cup.

‘Seamus, do you think will be safe for us all to be on the same train? Or should we split up? And what about those of our friends who came this far in cars?’

‘Perhaps now is the time to abandon the vehicles, if your friends are prepared to do that. You should travel in different carriages on the train, maybe. If some of your party use the ticket machines, that will help. But remind everyone to use cash... that is, if you are all continuing on together?’

It was a good question; were all my Silvans going to come with me across the Sundering Seas, or were some still worried about the prospect? I hardly knew myself, and looked to Ness to cover my hesitation.

‘Thank you, Seamus,’ she said. ‘We are very grateful, you know. This is more than being a good employee; this is real friendship.’

He coloured and shrugged.

‘Well, finding out that Mr Peters and Mr Dean wanted me dead was a bit of an incentive, I must admit,’ he said. ‘But for you, my lady, any time.’

‘You’ll need to talk to everyone, Thranduil,’ Nestoril said. ‘All together... I’ll go and have a word with Merlinith, shall I? No doubt she’ll organise everyone for us. I suppose we can use the lounge area, if we stick to...’ She paused to glance at Seamus, who was trying not to be intrusive, ‘to... to Welsh, then there won’t be any chance of staff overhearing and passing on any information to the authorities.’


	25. 'Navagare Necesse Est...'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Silvans are persuaded to follow Thranduil on the next stage of the journey...

‘My friends,’ I began, when all had gathered in the lounge, ‘I have a difficult choice to put to you. Had matters progressed as intended, we would have breakfasted together at the hotel where we gathered last evening, and then I would have canvassed your opinions, we could have made proper, unhurried arrangements. But the situation has changed.’

Legolas came to stand at my side.

‘Whom amongst you is are willing to follow our king, as you would have in the past?’ he asked, and a stir ran through the room and almost all elves murmured assent, even as I made placating gestures.

‘No, Legolas, not like this!’ I said. ‘I am no longer a king. I see myself instead as a protector. All of you, my dear Silvan friends, you have done so well to survive. Many have not. But this modern world is becoming increasingly inimical to our way of life, to the survival of Elvenkind. I will sail, and those of you who are willing are welcome to sail with me. With us, I should say, for many of my family and my friends have already agreed to join me on the ship. It is likely to be the last ship, my friends. I know some of you may be hesitant, and for those of you who are unsure, I have left documents with the human woman Lily Dunbar, who has been given instructions to help those showing our... ah... shared genetic trait...’

‘If I may interrupt, my king – for you will be my king always,’ Erthor said. ‘We have left our commune in trust for any who are reluctant.’

‘Thank you, Erthor. I am sure your commune has been a haven for many. But the world to which I awoke just a few weeks ago was no haven, but a modern, dirty environment, and not a world in which I feel I can safely live. My son is in danger of fading, I myself have lost huge tracts of time... for me, for us, it seems we must sail.’

‘We will come, my king,’ Canadion said. ‘My husband Thiriston and I, we will sail.’ 

‘Araspen and I will take ship with you, of course,’ Merlinith said. ‘You will need someone sensible on the voyage.’

‘I do not know if my words will weigh with any here,’ Triwathon began. ‘But it is no secret that I was once friends with the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower, the famed Balrog-slayer who died and was sent back again to these shores. He told me, he had seen Silvans in the Undying Lands. He did not offer it as a proof, or as a test of faith, but shrugged when he said it; a fact he was reporting, for me to make of what I would. And some of you know, I came close to dying at one point... I saw... I conversed with the Doomsman of the Valar, or rather, he with me. Lord Námo himself, and he said there was space for many more Silvans in the woodlands of Valinor, that our kin had been welcomed and were as happy as any there. When we die, we go to the Halls of Mandos, this we know. But if we fade, what happens to us then? Of that I have no knowledge.’

‘Will you sail, then, Triwathon?’ one of the hesitant ones asked.

He smiled and looked at Parvon.

‘That depends on my fëa-mate,’ he said. ‘For I would rather stay with him, and fade to a memory, to a shadow of a memory, than sail without him at my side. All the long years he waited for me to see him clearly, he deserves no less.’

Parvon looked down and swallowed, emotion overtaking him for a moment and I wondered how deeply touched he had been by this declaration. 

He looked up again, grinning and swishing his long, tawny hair.

‘Oh, my beloved Honey-beer!’ he said with a laugh. ‘Of course I will sail with you; I cannot wait to see the expression on your Balrog-slayer’s face when he sees that I won your heart, at last! Even were I to be refused Valinor, that would make it worth my while!’

‘You will not be refused,’ Nestoril said clearly. ‘There is a welcome there for Silvans. But please, all of you, you must realise that the incident last night may draw attention to Elvenkind. It might be safer for everyone to continue on with us at least for the moment, so that we may take care of you. You may have met Lily last night, the human of whom my husband speaks so highly, and she will befriend and assist any who wish to remain. But I would urge you to join us in this venture.’

‘What if we are refused?’ one said. ‘We cannot sail back, can we?’

‘My fëa-mate’s former friend sailed back,’ Parvon said.

‘Listen, all of you,’ Govon rose to his feet. ‘What my Ada-in-Honour has not mentioned, yet, is that our vessel is being provided by Cirdan the Shipwright. He has sent many of our kindred to safety across the sea. Those of you who know me, who knew me in the old times, you know I am from a sailing family, yes. But I have always declined to sail. Not from fear of rejection, but because I am Silvan; we do not sail in our pride of what we are, what we made of ourselves and all without the Promise of the Valar. And yet I have delayed so long that I have put my beloved spouse at risk, because of this pride, and I am ashamed...’

He broke off, shaking his head as Legolas reached up to take his hand and murmur reassurances. Gathering himself, smiling at my son, he found the courage to continue.

‘We are Silvans, we do not sail. Because of pride and stubbornness and a wilful, continuing refusal to answer the Call. But I say to you: There is nothing for us here, now. The forests we loved are shrinking, diminishing, and the spirit of the trees fades even as our own fëar become less. A famous Roman once said: _Navagare necesse est_ ; it is necessary to sail. So I, who never would sail, now I will go, because our time is up. In truth, it was up a thousand years ago when we fought off the last of the dragons.’

He faltered and sat down, and Legolas put his arms around him, holding him close.

‘It is not your fault,’ he whispered fiercely. ‘I chose to be with you. Without you, I would have been lost long ago.’

‘I will not lose you now,’ Govon whispered back.

‘I hope we will lose no-one,’ I said, taking charge once more. ‘Come. We must make sure we pack all we need and leave nothing behind. We must check out, and buy tickets, and get ourselves to Merseyside. And, Duinor – I will need to retrieve my bicycle.’

*

We had a jittery wait for the train, and none of us wished to be out of sight of the others. It was cold enough to legitimise hats, and many of our friends had headgear with them, although the elegant hats some of the ladies had worn to the wedding looked a little incongruous on a station platform.

‘You know, I think those with long hair should put their wedding hats away and simply cover-up with tresses,’ Nestoril suggested. ‘It will look less conspicuous.’

‘A good idea, Ness. Legolas, you and Govon come with us. You too, Seamus. Everyone else... split up amongst the carriages.’

Duinor had appointed himself Custodian of the Royal Bicycle and took charge while we found seats on the train. At this time of day – after the morning rush to work, and between flights arriving at the local airport, the train had comparatively few humans on board and Ness and I, Govon and Legolas sat around a table and talked softly.

‘I think very few of our friends will stay behind, when it comes down to it,’ I said. ‘They are following thus far, even those who were hesitant. Indeed, most seem eager, if anything. And, Ness – it was inspired of you to suggest they all come with us as far as Liverpool. It gives us longer to persuade them.’

‘Oh, it isn’t that, melleth,’ she said with her roguish smile. ‘Or have you forgotten about the sea-longing?’

‘The...?’ I shook my head. ‘Of course not. But living in the forest as deeply as we did, I assumed it would not affect Silvans...’

‘My point being, that if we have our Silvans in reach of the sea, Lord Ulmo can help persuade them for us, if necessary... assuming, as you say, that after living inland for so long they are not immune.’

‘I suffered from it,’ Legolas said. ‘For a while, it was very hard. But, in time, I grew accustomed.’

The gentle resignation in my son’s voice made me swallow, and Nestoril reached out to stroke his hand. Govon shook his head.

‘My fair elf, he is being brave now, but at the time he suffered greatly. And there we were, within reach of the Great River and knowing the whole time how easy it would be for him to just jump in a boat...’

‘Ah, but he did not,’ Nestoril said, smiling at Legolas who now turned to look out of the window.

‘No, he didn’t, and I am so grateful that he stayed with me... do you think, this time, it will be easier, knowing you will sail, melleth?’

Legolas didn’t answer, gaze fixed on the landscape rolling past.

‘Legolas?’ Govon laid an anxious hand on my son’s arm. ‘Did you not hear...? Legolas?’

‘Oh no, he has slipped away again!’ Nestoril exclaimed. ‘Thranduil, swap places with me, let me sit opposite him... Govon, try a light pain stimulus; pinch him, gently of course...’

I moved so that Ness could take my place and she took Legolas’ face between her hands, looking into his eyes, murmuring soft words.

‘Oh, it is not good, this train-thing! It isolates us from our environment; we cannot even open a window for the fresh air to touch him! There is nothing growing or green here...’

In my jacket pocket I had placed my buttonhole from the wedding as a keepsake; a spicily-fragranced carnation and I withdrew it now.

‘Here, Ness. It was a growing thing yesterday...’

‘It might just hold enough latent life...’ 

She took the flower from me and fluffed at its squashed petals, the pulled them apart to reveal its centre. Beginning her chant again, she thrust the flower under my son’s nose, where he perforce must inhale the last of its lingering, peppery-sweet fragrance.

For a long, anguished moment there was no change in my son. But then he started, sneezed, and shook his head, looking at our concerned faces with bewilderment.

‘What is the matter...? Why do you all look so...?’

‘We lost you again,’ Govon said, taking his hand and speaking softly while Legolas toyed with the carnation with his free hand, a frown on his fair face. ‘One moment we were talking of sailing, and then next, you were gone.’

‘I see. Well, I am back now.’

‘I will seek Seamus and see whether he knows how long this journey will take,’ Nestoril said. ‘Legolas, keep your attention engaged on your father or Govon.’

‘I’d prefer it to be Govon,’ my son said with a grin. ‘Keeping Adar’s attention is your job now.’

She was back in a few minutes.

‘I said Legolas was in need of some fresh air; unfortunately, Seamus now thinks you have a hangover, my dear son-in-honour! But there is a station soon where we could disembark; another train will be along in twenty minutes and Seamus has said he will wait for us at Liverpool Lime Street...’

‘But that would mean dividing the party; I am not sure it is wise, Adar,’ Legolas said. ‘I think the way everything outside was moving confused my senses and I simply lost my way. I will be fine.’

‘Come, walk down the carriage with me. Perhaps, when the train stops, we can be near one of the doors. A breath of outside, some cold, sharp air,’ Govon said. ‘And do we know how long to Liverpool?’

‘Perhaps twenty minutes; really, not long at all after the next stop.’

Once the station was behind us and the train moving again, I went through the carriages seeking my Silvans and reassuring everyone that we would be off this infernal contraption presently. There were frequent smiles when I had said this, as there had been a number of tunnels which had seemed interminably dark and alarming.

But we reached the station without further incident, disembarked and passed through the ticket barriers with the minimum of fuss; it struck me that for all I wanted to take care of my Silvans, they had already survived through millennia without me and seemed far more able in the modern world than was I.

We gathered in the open space of the station, making sure we, and our luggage, were all present.

‘Can you smell it?’ Duinor asked. ‘That tang in the air?’

‘Yes,’ Calithilon said. ‘The sea.’

This was taken up.

‘The sea – are we very near it?’

‘Can we see it? Can we go?’

‘Will it hurt?’

‘It hurt me,’ Legolas said. ‘I lived in great distress and discomfort for many centuries after I heard its call; a longing, a yearning, a fierce hunger of the fëa. But I am Sindar; I do not know how it might make you feel, Oreldaer.’

‘It did not hurt me,’ Erthor said. ‘Calithilon and I have lived near enough the sea to taste this salty air before.’

‘But should we run the risk?’ Merlinith said. ‘If you ask me, we need to gather ourselves together and if our king is expected in Liverpool, as my brother tells me is the case, then should we not get him away as quickly as possible? Who is arranging this?’

‘Seamus?’ I spoke in the Common Tongue and he came over. ‘What do we do now?’

‘If everyone did as I suggested, their tickets are valid for onward travel. We need to swap to Merseyrail and then take a second train; I’ll need to think about finding you all a hotel...’

‘Not too near the sea, Seamus.’

‘That’s a pity, sir; most of the reasonable hotels are either on the coast or here, in Liverpool... but if you do not mind a longer journey, Chester has many top quality hotels...’

‘I think a longer journey would be too difficult,’ I said firmly, worried for my son.

Seamus sighed.

‘As you wish, my lord... but... and forgive my bluntness, people are beginning to stare... Mr Dean said I was never to mention it outright... but I think it might be the ears. It might be best to get out of sight for a little while... if you can get your party to follow me... where is Mrs King?’

It took me a moment to realise he meant Nestoril and I looked around in horror, wondering where my wife had gone. But just as I was about to bark orders to Thiriston and Canadion to seek her, she came out of what looked like a shop at the end of the station concourse. She waved as if nothing was wrong.

‘I spotted a tourist information sign and as we seemed to be waiting for something... there are recommendations for hotels here... look... private functions, private parties... I think we qualify as that, do we not?’

‘These things are usually booked months in advance,’ Seamus protested. ‘But... if I may... if, for example, a party had been let down by their existing hotel, or if it had proven unsatisfactory, that might explain why suddenly such a large party needed accommodation in a hurry... Perhaps, if you’ll forgive me, you were a... a science-fiction convention or... well. Please, my lord, get everyone to follow me. We have another short train journey on Merseyrail. Down here, everyone, and follow signs for trains to the Wirral, Birkenhead, or Chester...’

They balked, of course. 

‘Down there?’

‘It is dark. It smells!’

‘There could be anything down there! Dwarves, were-worms, orcs...’

‘A Balrog...’

I shook my head and made eye contact with Triwathon, who came over.

‘How may I serve, sire?’

‘You may take up your former role as Commander and if your Parvon is willing to assist...?’

‘Of course, my king. Parvon?’

‘Gladly, sire... Everyone!’ Parvon clapped his hands. ‘Your attention, please.’

He spoke in the Silvan dialect, his tone firm and decisive.

‘We are embarking on the next stage of our journey. I understand this tunnel will take us across the river...’ Beneath it, truth to tell, but I believed Parvon was right not to mention that fact. ‘We descend here and take another train. We disembark and then will gather, and make our way to shelter. We travel with our king; when we were his subjects before, did he not protect us? Were not all his decisions, even the hard choices, made for our good?’

‘But it is a tunnel...’ one voice dissented. 

Parvon glanced at Triwathon, who spoke to me.

‘My king, do I have your permission to create a guard company?’

‘Please do, Triwathon.’

‘Thank you, sire. Mellyn-nin, I want volunteers to serve in the King’s New Guard. If you are willing, step forward at your name. Celeguel, Amathel. Erthor, Calithilon. Canadion, Thiriston. Saethor and Oreldaer... Good. In pairs, you will each take charge of a group of Silvans; organise yourselves. You will report to me or Parvon or Commander Govon... Commander, will you take responsibility for our king and his family?’

‘I was hoping not to have to insist on the privilege, Triwathon.’

‘Problems, my lord?’ Seamus asked. ‘We should get moving.’

I tried for a reassuring smile.

‘Some of my kin are a little... they do not like the idea of the tunnels...’

‘Claustrophobia,’ Nestoril supplied. ‘It is unusual to see it as a genetic trait, but many of my husband’s cousins are victim to it to some degree or other...’

‘There isn’t really any other way, not if you want to keep out of sight,’ Seamus said. ‘There’s a bus that makes the same journey, but there are so many of us we might have to split up. Or make our way to the pier head and get a ferry, but you seem so adamant in avoiding the sea...’

Triwathon had organised his guard while we were talking. Each pair of warriors now had a little group of Silvans in their care and were explaining calmly and firmly what had to happen. Canadion’s voice raised above the rest.

‘I know, I know, it is all new, and different, and we do not like change! If you want to stay here and fade, that is your choice. But think of your loved ones waiting, think of your king. Does he not deserve the honour of arriving in the Undying Lands with a loyal escort? Now, it is not far, I am assured, and it starts here, with these moving steps. I am sure that if I can manage them in these heels, you can all follow, too?’

He smiled his charming smile and led off, Thiriston bringing up the rear of the little group.

Erthor was next to speak.

‘Many of you have trusted me before. Trust me again now. Follow.’

Soon we were following the last of the Silvans down the moving steps. I understood their hesitation; these were odd things to encounter at the best of times, but the sense of stepping into a void was disconcerting. Still, we all arrived safely at the bottom and continued through the tunnel, following the signs for Merseyrail. Our surroundings were grim, dirty and grey and with a pervading air of hopelessness which only faded a little when we found our way to brightly lit areas once more.

We got everyone through the ticket barriers with only a little fussing and then descended again down a wide, long flight of steps. A vibration filled the air, the tunnel, a huge thrumming and whining noise, most unpleasant to our ears, and one of Erthor’s commune Silvans stopped abruptly, leaning against the wall and covering his ears with his hands.

‘I cannot! Ai, it is too much, and it is dark and the noise and where is the sky? I...’

Ness made to hurry to him but before she could, Triwathon was there at his side, holding tightly to the point where the Silvan’s shoulder and neck joined and whispering softly all the while. After a few seconds the afflicted one’s hands dropped down and he slumped back with a relaxed smile blossoming on his face.

‘There, that is better... be calm, now, mellon-nin, all will be well, you are in a waking dream and here is Erthor to guide you...’ Triwathon gave the ellon into Erthor’s care. ‘He will be fine. This state will last about twenty minutes or so, he will be perfectly calm and biddable, and unharmed after.’

Since everyone had stopped to see what was up, Triwathon addressed us all.

‘That, my friends, is what the Lord of the Golden Flower used to call a Námo Special. It does not hurt, and I have used it many times. And, if you are not able to find the courage to follow your king, I am quite willing to use it again.’ He lifted his chin in defiant promise. ‘You choose.’


	26. Underground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the journey continues...

‘That noise...’ I began as with a last loud screel it faded.

‘Just one of the trains, my lord,’ Seamus said. 

‘Our train?’

‘Probably. But we can get another.’

‘And where are we going?’

Nestoril had procured a map from Tourist Information and was looking it over.

‘It seems that all the trains go to this station and then diverge,’ she said, showing me. ‘But it also looks to be very close to the river...’

‘Seamus, what do you think? Not Hamilton Square, the next one?’

‘May I see? Perhaps... Let’s get everyone onto the platform... tell them to stay back, we do not want any accidents... and see what train is next.’

The information display told us the next train was due in two minutes, bound for Chester, and Seamus nodded.

‘Yes, so if we all get on here... can your helpers make sure everyone knows that we’re heading for Birkenhead Central Station... that’s NOT Liverpool Central, NOT the next station! And if you look on the diagram on the wall, there, you can see where Birkenhead Central is...’

‘What does that blue line mean, between James Street and Hamilton Square?’ someone asked.

‘I will find out and tell you later,’ Govon said hastily; to explain would be to give away the fact we were heading under the river... I could not say I was delighted at the thought myself, but it was our only choice and I had decided I would worry about it later. ‘Remember, there is likely to be an uncomfortable noise... Ai, I can hear the air thrumming...’

‘Everyone, try and be calm now,’ Nestoril said. ‘It will be over soon.’

Inside, the train was narrower than the one we had travelled on from Manchester. It was thinner, somehow; not just physically less wide, but its walls seemed less substantial, the seats cheaper. It was rickety and rattling and uncomfortable, and very noisy.

But at least it was less noisy than outside.

We had all filed into the one carriage, which had two doors to it, unwilling to be split up in this distressing situation. There was room for more than half of us to sit, the rest standing and holding on to handles on the tops of the seats. Duinor still had charge of my bicycle and the bag of spares, and we exchanged glances over the machine. He smiled.

‘Never thought I’d have the chance to serve again, sire,’ he said.

‘When I began this, I did not think I would find more than a handful of Silvans,’ I told him. ‘Your service honours us.’

The stations came and went. Liverpool Central, James Street, a space of time where I was too aware that we were passing beneath the river, and I fought the urge to hold my breath... Birkenhead Hamilton Square (‘Not this one! Not yet!’ Seamus called out), and we found ourselves disembarking at the next station, finding our way up and out into traffic and noise and Seamus shaking his head and leading us to a car park where we at least had room to gather.

But we were in daylight, at last, cold, sharp, dirty daylight with the seasoning of salt in the air mingling with petrol and diesel fumes.

‘Now what?’ somebody muttered, and I had to admit I had wondered much the same myself.

Merlinith came to the rescue.

‘Now we thank the Valar we are out, into the bright day again, and that there are some trees over there. Only one or two, but there, it’s something to look at, and it’s better than a metal tube that rushes about!’

‘Seamus,’ I began, and he sighed. 

‘This is worse than looking after a school trip, it really is!’ he protested.

The thought took me back to poor Lily Dunbar trying to cope with recalcitrant school children, the day I had shown myself and really become real again. It made me smile.

‘I know, and we are all most grateful. But I do not know where we are or what we are to do now...’

Nestoril thrust a leaflet under my nose. 

‘Hotel,’ she said. ‘Phone number.’

‘For which we will need a phone...’

‘According to this map,’ Celeguel said, looking at a large board with colourful patches and symbols all over it, ‘across that road there, is where there are shops... I suggest an advance party to investigate and enquire about purchase of said phone...’

‘Oh, very good! And who amongst us understands the purchasing of phones?’ I asked, not wanting to push Seamus’ helpfulness too far. 

‘You can leave that to me, melleth,’ Nestoril said. ‘But... should we not all go?’

‘We’re rather noticeable.’

‘Yes, and that is true whether we are in a car park or walking through a shopping area... at least, if we are moving, with our cases we look as if we are heading somewhere...’

Even crossing the roads was fraught with danger; the safety crossings were timed, and the period allowed for crossing was adequate perhaps for ten persons, not for more than forty. But eventually we were across, and found our way to a pedestrianised shopping centre where Ness presently spotted a purveyor of mobile phones.

We waited, looked in windows, worried, and when she came out with a bright smile and a brighter pink handset, I knew she had chosen with herself in mind.

‘Yes, your point?’ she asked with a glimmer of smile peeking through. ‘You have your laptop, after all. And the hotel I found has free wifi... I suppose we had better ring them...’

‘When you say ‘we’, I hope you do not expect me to use such a... a colourful item?’ I said.

She blinked at me, holding her eyes closed for a half a second longer than necessary, and then moved to a quiet corner to dial the number. 

From what I could overhear, she was most impressive, explaining she represented a large party who had been let down by their original hotel...

‘And so, we are stranded, with nowhere to stay, and I saw a brochure for your hotel and thought it looked very nice... Well, we are a combination, really... a marriage party, and it is rather a family reunion as well... Yes, more than forty of us, of which many are couples... Exactly? Forty seven,’ she said. ‘Up to a week, perhaps... Oh, no... that is not a problem at all... Thank you, that is most kind... I see... well, we are all good friends if not family, and so double or twin rooms would not be a problem... apart from myself and my husband, it is our honeymoon that has been spoilt... Oh, that is so kind of you! You do? Oh, how lovely! Very well... No, I am sure we can sort that out when we get there... Well, we have just arrived at one of the stations so need to find our way to you... About half an hour or so, I would hope, less than an hour, certainly. Mrs King. Mrs Nestoril King, my husband is Thranduil... And my thanks once again.’

She stroked the surface of her phone and looked up.

‘They have thirty five rooms in total, some of which are occupied, but the idea of a large party, perhaps for a week or so, I think was tempting, and they are sure they can accommodate us, or if not, there is a sister hotel nearby. They have two bridal suites, they told me, and will keep one for us!’

‘I am sure they will,’ I said, ‘it is probably at least twice the rate of the standard doubles...’

‘Miser!’ she said, giving me a playful nudge. ‘I think we could walk, you know, it does not seem too far and there is a map... or we could try to find taxis...’

‘We would need an entire fleet!’ I said. ‘And, what about my bicycle?’

‘I do not wish to be shut inside another vehicle,’ Legolas said. ‘I need the air.’

‘But where is this place?’ Govon asked.

Ness handed over the brochure for the hotel, which included a small map.

‘And,’ she said, ‘my new phone has an app. The place is just over a mile away and, if we get lost, I have GPS installed, too.’

‘It looks further than that,’ Seamus said. ‘My lord, are you sure you wish to walk?’

‘I would rather ride the bicycle,’ I said. 

*

In the finish, Nestoril, Govon, Legolas and I went on foot, and Triwathon organised his guard so that each had charge of several individuals. Seamus borrowed Nestoril’s phone to ring the number of a local taxi firm, the number of which had been on the hotel leaflet. We kept our luggage with us, and set off on our walk while the rest waited for the cars to begin arriving.

Suddenly, it seemed rash to leave them there, to walk away.

‘But it will be fine,’ Ness said. ‘Look, you can see, it is up this road, and then at the top, we follow it round, it is easy.’

And it was not so difficult, really. I wheeled the bicycle, the hill being steep, and we passed small, tired shops and moved into a semi-residential area of little houses crowded together and with the occasional tree to break up the pavement. Somehow, it seemed a more pleasant place than Leeds, perhaps because it was smaller, perhaps freshened by the breeze from the sea.

We reached a junction and turned right. The hill was steeper here, the pavements wider and the gardens larger. Many of them had mature planting, tall trees the norm, and we listened to the rustle of the remaining leaves, calming under their voices.

Suddenly Legolas laughed.

‘The trees have an accent!’ he said.

A car passed us, the occupants waving, and it was only when it had gone that we realised it had held some of our Silvan friends. Reassuringly, it also confirmed we were on the right road.

Another ten minutes up the hill, two more taxis full of Silvans cruised past. Our road curved, and branched, and we followed the route suggested by both map and taxis. Around another corner, and an empty taxi passed us, going back in the other direction. I wondered whether it would return with more of our friends.

We took another turn, running now parallel to the hill, and the air became yet fresher, brighter. Ahead a cluster of Silvans with suitcases and bags waited on the pavement near the drive of a large and rambling building in expansive grounds.

Erthor came to greet us.

‘Sire, your servant Seamus thought it would be wise for us to wait, and all enter together. We were glad to see you; having been reunited, to separate felt wrong.’

‘Yes, I know what you mean. Well, we are here now. And here is another car.’

Sooner than I had dared hope, we were all reunited, Seamus getting out of the last car with Duinor and my bag of spare parts for the bicycle.

‘If we are ready?’ I began. ‘Mrs King, you made the initial overture to the hotel; please lead on.’

Ness smiled. 

‘Come along, then, everyone. Just follow us.’

*

Presently, we had been welcomed and registered and much to Govon’s annoyance, Thiriston and Canadion had asked for the second bridal suite before he had the chance to commandeer it for himself and Legolas. The hotel staff were already reeling at the swiftness of our arrival, so my honour-son contented himself with growling under his breath.

‘And is there a function room we can hire?’ Nestoril asked. ‘It will save us from utterly overrunning your lobby whenever we wish to gather.’

‘We’ve got just the thing. Follow me... Will this do?

The private room was large enough for us to not feel crowded. It had a hideous carpet and chairs set around tables at the perimeter of the room. The windows were expansive, and a set of glass doors at the end let out into the gardens.

‘I want to walk in the grounds and look at the trees,’ I heard Legolas say from behind me. ‘Is that possible?’

‘Just make yourselves at home, sir... if there’s anything you need, my name is Pam and I’m happy to help.’

I beckoned Triwathon over.

‘Yes, my king?’

‘It might be best if everyone began finding their rooms and unpacking... we are rather cluttering up the reception area...’

‘I’ll speak to Parvon; we will pass the word.’

Legolas was already outside and wandering with Govon across the lawn. They were holding hands, and remembering what I had discovered about differing attitudes towards same gender couples, I hoped there would be no latent hostility from the staff or other guests, but the ever-helpful Pam, who had held the door, was smiling.

‘Your son?’ she said to me, and I nodded with quiet pride. ‘Ahh... what it is to be young and not feel the cold, eh? They do make a sweet couple, don’t they, though?’

‘They do indeed. So... is there a dining room for lunch or would it be more convenient to serve in here?’

‘Back through the lobby and to the left of Reception; you can’t miss it. They’ll be serving for another forty minutes or so.’

‘My thanks.’

There was time to take our luggage up to the bridal suite. Someone had thoughtfully placed a bowl of fruit and a bottle of champagne in the room, along with flowers and a card. It made Nestoril smile.

‘They do have some strange customs, these days!’ she said. ‘But it is very nice of them.’

‘Do you like the accommodation?’

A modern four-poster with white bedding, the bedspread damasked and all looking pure and inviting in a minimalist sort of way. Large windows, overlooking the lawn where Legolas and Govon were now lounging on a bench at the perimeter, my son reaching out to stroke his fëa-mate’s hair and draw Govon in to his chest. I saw Govon lift his head, his mouth move as he spoke, and then he smiled and snuggled in.

I found I needed to swallow and be still for a moment, overwhelmed by the intimacy of their bond.

‘We have another room,’ Nestoril said and, indeed, beyond the bedroom, a large sitting room with sofa and chairs and table and its own door to the corridor beyond. The furniture was upholstered in a pale gold fabric which looked a little insipid against the sky blue of the walls. ‘You know, if there is not enough space, someone could lodge in here...’

‘No, they could not, Ness.’

She came to me, laughing. ‘It broke through your melancholy though, did it not?’

‘You were not supposed to notice.’

My wife tucked her hand under my arm.

‘Thranduil, how many millennia have we known each other? And you think I do not notice when you are sad or worried?’

My arm went around her shoulder.

‘Is Legolas safe, Ness? Are we so near to sailing, and he is still at risk? It was frightening how easily he slipped away; it would break Govon’s heart...’

‘And ours, too.’ She gave me a little squeeze. ‘Come. He is awake now, and alert, and happy, and Govon is delighted with him. Now, I’m going to go downstairs and see if the ever-helpful Pam can get them the best room that isn’t a bridal suite; I think she believes they are adorable.’

I shuddered.

‘If Govon were to hear himself referred to as ‘adorable’, he would have that person’s kidneys on a stick for roasting...’

She laughed, and I managed to smile, and we went down to meet with our Silvan friends in the dining room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thranduil’s opinions of Merseyrail, and the comparative merits of Leeds vs. small towns on the Wirral, are, of course, entirely his own and do not reflect the views of the author


	27. Plans For an Expedition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the company settle in, and Canadion makes a suggestion...

After lunch, while most of our friends were gathered in the private room, Nestoril and I went for a walk in the grounds. Finding a seat, we paused for a moment to take stock.

‘There is something you need to do, Thranduil,’ she said, handing me her phone. ‘Call Lily.’

I stared at the phone. It seemed... difficult.

‘Should I do so? What if the law enforcement agencies are seeking us?’

‘Well, we’ve left a pretty clear trail, for all we tried to sneak out of Yorkshire quietly. And I used our real names here... I think it is more that we need to escape Mr Peters and Mr Dean’s inspection, and if Seamus has done his work well, and Parvon’s retained lawyer is up to par, then surely all the police could need is a statement or two, an assurance we are all alive and well? Call Lily. She will worry less.’

I sighed.

‘Her number was on my last phone and...’

‘...and I transferred it across to mine earlier. If you do not call, I will put her on speaker and we can both talk to her.’

‘Oh, very well!’

Lily’s voice was cautious as she answered.

‘Lily,’ I said, and she almost shrieked a rain of anxious questions at me. ‘Lily, be calm, I am quite well, we are all safe and well but...’

‘Oh my God, oh my God, oh... I...’

‘Don’t say anything to anyone about this call. Lily, it seems...’

‘I thought you were dead! They just said ‘missing’ on the news... and the hotel blew up and they arrested the minibus driver and some other chaps... and we’d only been there a few hours before... and then Adrian’s is helping with their enquiries and we all know what that means, and...’

‘It seems Peters and Dean were afraid I knew what they were up to,’ I said. ‘They decided on a rather drastic way of covering their tracks...’

‘But... but that’s ridiculous...!’

‘However it may seem; we were warned, and all escaped before it happened. Lily, I borrowed this phone; I do not know if I will be able to contact you again personally, but I wanted you to know we are safe. My family and I, we are fine. Now, please, forget you heard from me. Forget us.’

‘Some chance of that!’ she said. 

‘Well, in the fullness of time you can remember if you wish. After all, I will not forget you...’

‘What, wait... you’re really not coming back? Not ever? That wasn’t just the drink talking?’

‘No, I do not think I can return.’

‘But your lovely coach house, that gorgeous big mansion...’

‘It doesn’t matter. We are safe. If you are willing, if you want, you can have the coach house; I will leave instructions ... then, in case any of my kin arrive seeking me, you will be able to keep an eye on them They might need a friend, as I did.’

‘Well, of course I’ll help, if I can... I’ll have to think about the house, I do love my own home, you know, but... Oh, but Crispin is going to be so cross, your job will need filling properly and...’ 

‘Thank you, Lily. You were my first friend in a long time and but for you, I would still be sitting in the warehouse. I would not have found my son, or been reunited with Ness, or found any of my friends.’

I ended the call before she could grow emotional at me, switching the phone off, too, for good measure, and sat in silence for a time. Lily had almost been in tears and it unsettled me, made me aware of the enormity of what we were attempting... never mind the logistics, Middle Earth had been my home for so many long ages, so many millennia, even if I couldn’t remember all of it. And now I was on the brink of abandoning it all...

My eyes rested on the open doors to the function room. In the doorway, talking to Parvon, I saw Seamus. His body language was sharp, quick, and I wondered what was up with him, if I had done right to put so much trust in him simply because he had almost been blown to smithereens while working for me... I wondered what would become of him, once we had left. Would suspicion fall on him? There was a crime of ‘aiding and abetting’, I knew; would he be accused of something, anything connected with the bombing, would Dean or Peters try to shift the blame, or would Seamus even be charged with helping our escape, even though none of us had done anything wrong...?

‘What are we going to do with Seamus?’ I asked, voicing my thought.

‘Parvon’s law firm, make sure they can keep his name clear and offer him support. Give him a new identity, find him a job helping with any resettlement programme Lily gets involved with; there are endless possibilities. We will find a way to see him safe, Thranduil, never fear.’

*

Dinner in the hotel was... interesting. The other guests looked at us with awe and not a little trepidation; apparently large groups of people who all knew each other were looked upon with suspicion in this day and age, or at least in this sort of out-of-the-way place... but we gathered, and ate, and drank, and sent for wine, and when the still-helpful Pam confided that they were down to their last two cases, enquired of her the name of a good vintner in the area.

‘For there are many of us, and two cases will barely last the night...’

‘But... it’s not done to drink your own alcohol...’

‘And yet, you do not have it for us to drink; what is to be done? Should we, tomorrow evening, after dinner go elsewhere to drink? Or do you think you could organise delivery of some good red – excellent red, that is – for tomorrow evening’s dinner? I will gladly pay whatever is needed, rather than have to go to the trouble of visiting a vintner in person.’

Nestoril smiled and shook her head at me.

‘Please forgive my husband, Pam – but we’re not over-fond of spirits and beer...’

‘Not at all, not at all, it’s fine... it’s just... a large party, and at short notice... mind you, some of your friends are enjoying our fine speciality brews, there are fruit beers, and a white wheat brewed with honey...’

We had used to brew honey beer long ago, one a small scale in the palace, I remembered. It was popular amongst the warriors for a time.

‘Well, it will not hurt us to be abstemious for an evening.’ I smiled at Ness. ‘Shall we take a walk and see if we might spot the star of Eärendil in the sky?’

*

The air was cold and crisp and the sky clear. Here, away from the main centre of the town, in a quiet suburb thick with trees, the light pollution was less intense than over the city of Leeds and we were able to pick out many constellations we knew. The stars within may have changed position a little through the millennia, but even so the jewelled patterns in the sky felt familiar, comforting.

‘Consolations, perhaps,’ Ness said, leading me back indoors. ‘Come along. Time to say goodnight to our boys and go to bed.’

Our boys.

It had such a wonderful sound to it.

They were seated at the bar, half-empty glasses in front of them, mirroring each other’s body language with heads propped on hands, talking with their eyes. While I hesitated, storing up the image of them sitting in such close accord, Ness went over and drew the pair of them into a maternal hug.

‘We’re going up now. Do not you be staying up too late, and remember there may be humans in the rooms near you.’

‘Yes, Ness,’ Legolas grinned. ‘We’ll be considerate. Goodnight Ada.’

‘Goodnight, you two. Sleep well... eventually.’

*

 

After breakfast the following morning I gathered my key elves; Canadion, Thiriston, Parvon and Triwathon to a meeting with my family.

‘It is Saturday,’ I said. ‘I intend to attempt to contact Cirdan today, but in the interim, are there any pressing concerns or issues you wish to raise...?’

‘We do not yet know how long we must be here,’ Canadion said. ‘And many of our friends have been asking about clothing and such; those who came for the wedding with no real thought of sailing have only their finery and their travel garments.’ 

‘This is true,’ Ness said. ‘What about you, Canadion? All your things you rescued from York, what of all your shoes and bags?’

Thiriston gruffed a laugh.

‘Did you not notice, Ness, we had twice the luggage you did with us? Most of it’s shoes and frocks and bags...’

‘And it was you who said, never mind my cardigans, pack the shoes, your shoes are more expensive, you can knit cardigans, you can’t knit shoes... Anyway,’ Canadion went on, ‘I have been asked to see about, perhaps, a shopping expedition...?’

‘Oh, what a wonderful idea!’ Ness said. ‘In fact, I was thinking along the same lines myself...’

‘Shopping...?’ I asked, bewildered. ‘For clothes? Now?’

Nestoril laughed at me.

‘Why not? It is actually a very good idea! You and I had the pretence of going on honeymoon to bring our things for the onward journey, of course, but, yes, clothes.’

‘Will they not have raiment in Valinor?’ I asked, amused at my wife but exasperated at elvenkind in general and my little flock in particular.

‘Probably. And probably the fashions and styles there are exactly the same as in the First Age... no more Louboutins or Jimmy Choos for Canadion, no Radley bags for me... no hoodies for Govon, or snug-fitting black denim trousers...’

‘Well... is it safe...?’

‘Seamus can organise a hire care to drive us. Not everyone... me, Canadion, Thiriston to protect us... Merlinith, maybe...’

‘She would like that,’ Govon said. ‘Although I think Araspen might want to join the party.’

‘Yes. I was thinking, too, Merlinith worked in the sewing rooms, she would know about... how to make garments. Purchasing patterns and – not fabric, they will have fabric in Valinor – but notions, and buttons and zips...’

‘Very well. But if Seamus is driving you, how will Legolas, Govon and I meet with Cirdan?’

‘Just tell Cirdan where the hotel is. Invite him to lunch, or dinner here. That way he can see how many of us there are. If dinner, then you could come shopping with us, if you’re so worried...?’

I declined hastily.

‘But I suppose it will be safe enough,’ I added. ‘After all, the town is only a mile or so away.’

‘Well, I was thinking about that,’ Ness said, crinkling her nose in a way that was guaranteed to distract me and make me agree to whatever she asked without hearing it. ‘I wouldn’t risk Liverpool; too near the sea... But Chester has some lovely shops...’

‘Have we the currency?’ I asked. ‘Not to be penny-pinching, but if we cannot use our cards, lest they are traced...’

‘Not everyone will be looked for,’ Ness pointed out. ‘And none of us has done anything wrong. But – Chester is far enough away from where we are, and from where we were, for it not to be an issue. And you’re not the only one with savings, beloved – and, besides, your good friends at Adrian’s won’t have my credit card details on file, after all...’

‘If it comes to it, sire, I can arrange to have the money lodged with the lawyers transferred,’ Parvon said.

‘I am grateful; I do not wish to curtail anyone’s spending, but we must be a little cautious lest we be found by unfriendly friends...’

‘I understand; we have become used to living out of the public eye, but a figure such as yourself, sire, you are difficult to hide.’

‘Especially as all you have done lately is get yourself noticed in the hope of finding more Silvans!’ Ness said with a smile.

‘If it works, if even one Silvan sails who otherwise would not, then it has been worth any risk.’

‘So... I will take a little while to look online at Chester and its delights, and ask Merlinith if she is interested, and perhaps take requests from those not coming with us...’

‘And I suppose it is left to me to speak with the long-suffering Seamus...’

‘Thank you, melleth-nin! I will seek you out in about an hour.’

*

By the time we reconvened, Nestoril was becoming increasingly excited about the shopping trip and Seamus and Duinor had departed to arrange for transport from somewhere, Helpful Pam having suggested a hire company to whom they always referred their guests. Duinor had all the documents he needed to arrange a car for himself, and the general thought was that two cars would be more useful to have at our disposal than one. 

Moreover, I had again made contact with Cirdan, who had suggested meeting, not at the hotel initially, but outside one of the railway stations and thence taking lunch somewhere. This had necessitated a little hasty research of good places to eat locally – there seemed to be a dearth of high-end places, but several which looked reasonable - and it was decided that we – Govon, Legolas and I – would go to the meeting in one car with Duinor driving us.

‘We will be apart for most of the day,’ Ness said when she heard this, her tone oddly sad. 

‘Defer your trip. Come with me,’ I suggested.

‘Or you change your meeting and come with us...?’

‘Shopping? Not even for you, sweet Ness...’

She smiled, dimpling delightfully. ‘Well, is there anything you want me to get for you while I’m out?’

‘No, thank you. Just come back safely. And call me. Call me often.’

‘And how am I to do that when you have no phone, yet?’

‘I will stop on the way to the meeting and buy one. I will take your number with me and call you immediately so that you will know it is I. Then I want to know when you arrive at your destination, when you stop to eat, when you leave. And in turn, I will keep you apprised of my activities...’

‘Do you think you’re worrying too much?’

‘After all that has happened, do you wonder if I am?’

Seamus and Duinor came back with two substantial vehicles, neither of which were as beautiful as the Rolls but both of which looked dependable and safe; one was a minibus capable of holding a dozen or so elves with ease. I handed Ness into her seat with fewer qualms, especially when Seamus assured me he was used to handling such vehicles and knew them to be reliable and sturdy.

‘We will be back in time for dinner; in fact, if it is possible, we will set off mid-afternoon,’ Ness told me. ‘Even here, even on a Saturday, there is something called a rush-hour...’

‘Enjoy your day, have a wonderful afternoon, and take care,’ I said. ‘I will ring.’

‘See that you do,’ she said.


	28. Cirdan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil meets up with the Shipwright, and Legolas and Govon get too near the water...

It being Saturday, everywhere was busy and lively, changing the atmosphere of the town as Duinor drove Govon and Legolas and I to our appointed meeting place outside the station. I was a little anxious, but Duinor proved as good a driver as Seamus, and my tension eased once we had made one or two stops; having researched local vintners before leaving, I wished to acquire suitable refreshments to take back to the hotel. 

I had almost concluded the business when Legolas drew my attention to some of the specialist ales on offer. 

‘Look, Adar – honey beers! Have we room for a crate or two, do you think? Triwathon and Glorfindel used to get through a lot of honey beer in their time; it might be a good present to take with us,’ he said. ‘If not, we can always have a party when we get there.’

‘A good idea,’ I said. ‘The honey beer brewed in the palace was excellent, although those two seemed to have a particular fondness for it which I never really understood.’

Our next stop was at a place where I could acquire a phone – Govon helped – and by the time I had sorted it out and called Ness from the car, we were pulling in outside the station where we had arranged to meet.

We did not have long to wait before a group of tall and elegant people emerged. They wore their modern dress with grave dignity, as if they were robed, and one had a grey beard. Although none had their ears showing, all had shoulder-length or shorter hair, (I wondered why they had felt it necessary to cut their tresses; it seemed a pity...) it was obvious they were elves.

And besides, I recognised Cirdan’s beard.

Duinor jumped out and opened the door for me while Govon did the same for Legolas as Cirdan and his followers approached and Cirdan bowed his head.

‘Your majesty,’ he said with courteous ease. ‘It is an honour to meet with you again. And a relief.’

‘It is very good to see you again,’ I said, shaking hands. ‘If you will, I would be happy to take you to lunch...’

‘Assuming that I know the area a little better than you, sire, I took the liberty of making arrangements for us. My friends and I will get a taxi, and you can follow, if you will. We are going to the Angel Inn, which is about a mile and forty years away, if you understand me.’

I wasn’t sure I did, but he smiled, and so did I, and once Cirdan and his elves had got into their taxi, we climbed back into the car and followed them along a wide, underused road, finally pulling up outside a pub that stood in the middle of an expanse of waste ground.

 

The Angel claimed to be an old established inn, but in reality it seemed simply to be a rather tired pub; I did, finally, understand Cirdan’s comments; the place most certainly looked several decades out of date. It did, however, boast a fire in the hearth and we got a table near it, so that we could look at the flicker of the flame while we waited for the food.

Although Cirdan and I had first met in the early Ages of the world, so long ago now it was startling even to me, to my eye he was unchanged. He wore his hair shorter than most, and, unusually amongst elvenkind, sported a beard, a sign he had entered into the third age of elves, where we allegedly become more wise and mystical and annoying than ever.

But Cirdan was not an annoyance. Rather, he was a welcome sight, a symbol of hope for us all.

‘How soon can you be ready?’ he asked me once we had talked around the subject for a few moments.

‘This evening, at a push,’ I said. ‘Some of my elves are out this afternoon, but I could call them home sooner, if required...’

The shipwright looked as if only respect for my person stopped him from laughing at this.

‘Is something amiss?’

‘Not at all, your majesty, in fact, it’s reassuring to find you so prepared... I was expecting you to say a week and to have to argue with you...’

‘Really, I want to get away as soon as we can...’ I glanced across at Legolas. ‘My son has episodes when we cannot rouse him. We fear he may be fading...’

‘I am sorry to hear that.’ Cirdan sighed, and I saw sympathy in his eyes. ‘It has happened, when elves come to me, sometimes. But usually, get them on the ship, get the sea air in their faces, and it puts new heart into them. I’ve seen it happen.’

‘But, and forgive me, my lord,’ Govon put in. ‘That implies you have... sailed back?’

‘Many times. Well, we do not have an endless supply of ships, you know! Although it used to be easier to arrange, in the days of the tea-clippers...’ His eyes twinkled. ‘And yes, they let the Silvans in, yes there are trees...’

Govon grinned.

‘As long as they let gay couples in, that’s all I care about,’ he said.

If Cirdan was shocked by my honour-son’s announcement, he hid it well.

‘They let Elrond in,’ he said. ‘And we all know what he was like, at the end, don’t we...?’ he added, looking around with a lifted brow. ‘Or do we...? Ah. Well, forget I said anything...’

‘I’m not sure I can,’ Govon murmured.

‘You would remember Elrohir and his spouse Rusdir, of course?’ Cirdan said, smoothly diverting Govon’s thoughts away from Elrond’s proclivities. ‘And there – not only a married gay couple, but a Silvan, known to you. How else may I reassure you?’

‘I am sure my honour-son will realise, on reflection, that there is nothing for him to worry about. When do you wish us to be ready?’ I asked.

‘Monday, early,’ he said. ‘The boat I’m hoping to acquire for our use officially comes into service again on Wednesday; I’ve scheduled a series of river trials for her, starting on Monday morning, with the tide, and pencilled in more trials for Tuesday, just to give me a little leeway to get you ready. As far as anyone is concerned, I’m just taking the ship round, going over her usual routes, making sure she handles well for docking... The ferry will be renamed the Uinen’s Gull, not a typical name for a Mersey Ferry, and I’ll painting it on her hull tonight myself so you won’t board the wrong ship by mistake. It should be noted that this is a passenger boat, not a luxury liner; it is not fitted out with private accommodations. But there are comfortable saloons to gather in, and for the number of passengers I expect, there will be more than sufficient space for all. Certainly, bring everything you have, if you wish, luggage, clothing, there is plenty of storage space, and it’s a long way back if you forget anything, after all.’

‘Are you sure there are no private rooms?‘ Legolas said with a grin. ‘Adar is on his honeymoon, you know.’

‘Yes? Congratulations, then, your majesty, and I will see whether we can find private quarters for you... I am sure there is a room beneath the bows we could equip for you and your spouse...’

‘Wife,’ I said, wanting to be absolutely clear how it was. ‘And while it is most accommodating of you, it is hardly necessary...’

‘But, Adar-in-Honour, Legolas and I could use it when you were not...’

‘No. Absolutely not. It was bad enough letting you two use our bathroom...’

Cirdan was smiling, his companions utterly nonplussed.

‘If I may suggest, there are tents available these days which do not need staking into the earth, should any of your elves require seclusion,’ he said. ‘We will make sure there are some stowed, just in case... And now, I should really be getting back... you will need to know where to meet us, of course, and it will be easier to show you than to tell...’

We left the Angel and, when Cirdan’s taxi set off, followed it along the wide, underused road, turning off here and there until finally we crossed over a small iron bridge and Cirdan disembarked and dismissed the car.

We parked and got out, looking around, breathing. The air was heady with salt and industry and the promise of the sea. A strange vessel I recognised from the Curious Boys’ Book as a Submarine was moored at one side, and seemed to be open to view to judge from the interest shown by persons gathered around. Legolas stared across the water, a dark slur of a dock with buildings and wharves all around as if entranced, Govon at his side.

‘That is Duke Street Bridge and this is the West Float,’ Cirdan said, drawing my attention away. ‘Tomorrow evening I will be bringing the Uinen’s Gull here, ostensibly for her final checks. We’ll moor overnight and I will send to you to bring your people here at some point on Monday. I’ll make sure we are supplied and ready to go as soon as you board... We will need to stop off at Seacombe to collect my first engineer and his mate; they are chaperoning a small enclave of elves who were living in the woods for a time, and will bring them aboard. After that, we will head out along the estuary towards the sea and then... well. Let us not get too far ahead. A couple of stops and then west, all the way west.’

‘Cirdan, we are grateful.’

‘Yes, but you do not have to be. I am only doing what I have always done. I have done it for others, and now I do it for you. There is a rail station a short walk that way. If you have any problems, send me a message. I will see you soon, Thranduil.’ He nodded off to the left before turning to his companions. ‘Shall we go?’

‘Sire?’ Duinor drew my attention from watching Cirdan walking away. ‘Should they be doing that?’

Govon had sat down on the very edge of the waterfront, dangling his legs into the water and stroking it with his fingers. Legolas was doing the same, their footwear discarded at their backs.

‘I understand now,’ Govon was saying, and there were tears on his face. ‘Oh, it is so beautiful...! Yes, soon, I will come, we will both come...’

‘Govon?’

‘Do you not hear it, Adar-in-Honour? Can you not feel it?’

I did, of course; a longing, a tugging, a need... the sense of a song just outside of hearing, just out of reach...

‘I hear it, ion. Legolas, bring your fëa-mate. Get in the car. We need to get back.’

‘But, Adar, the sea, it is talking to us...’

‘I know. What would you, fall in now, drown, get to Valinor the long way round? Come away. We’ll be back, two days at most and we will be underway. But now, come away.’

It took considerable coaxing to get my son and his fëa-mate back into the car. As soon as the doors were closed, Duinor pressed something, and all the little buttons on the windows popped down.

‘Central locking, sire,’ he said. ‘Just in case.’

‘Good thinking,’ I said. ‘And you are well, still?’

‘Yes, my king; I felt the pull, but I think, had I interacted with the water, it would have been far worse.’

As we headed towards the hotel and away from the smell of the salt, Legolas grew uneasy.

‘We are leaving it,’ he said sadly. ‘It is fading, that lovely song...’

Govon sighed and stared out of the window back towards the town and I began to worry. Within moments the atmosphere had changed, became somehow moody, sullen; it was as if Legolas and Govon were sulking, arms crossed over their chests, faces set, silent. When we got to the hotel, I drew them apart, and I tried to find out what was wrong.

‘The sea, Ada, its song. You brought us away and we can’t hear it any more. We can’t hear it, and you don’t seem to care, you don’t understand...’

His voice rose towards hysteria and I interrupted hastily.

‘Legolas, Govon... I felt it also, I did. But this is why I kept back from the waters, why I have kept our people away from the sight and sounds of the sea as much as I could, knowing it might bring them pain. And I know, I know you suffered in the past. But my dear son, it is only for a little while and then we will be on our way. Help me now. Govon you see, he has not been through this, he suffers more... it is not so bad for me, but you... you connected with the water, which you should not...’

‘But it was so beautiful.’ Govon said. ‘Ai, Legolas! However do you bear it?’

‘I do not know. Before, for you. But now... it hurts again. But I know how it hurts you, beloved...’

To my alarm, a tear slipped down Govon’s face and Legolas pulled at his arm.

‘Come, I know something that might help. Let me show you. And as Adar says, we will sail, soon, we will have all the rest of forever to sing with the sea, if you want, when we get there. Come with me now. Let me help.’

I watched them leave, concerned. Ness would know what to do, if anyone did, if anything could help. Otherwise, perhaps time alone together, getting lost in the song of each other... if anything could drown out the song of the sea, that could, I supposed. They had come through so much, surely they could weather this, also?

It was but for two days at most...

*  
It was a relief to me when Nestoril got back, less than an hour after we ourselves had returned, but I’d had an anxious wait. 

I broached the subject gently while Ness fussed around with bags and boxes and packages in our room a little while later, trying to make light of Legolas’ encounter with the water, trying to focus on the fact that he had said, the rest of forever... was that not a good sign? Was he safe now?

She paused in what she was doing and smiled.

‘Try not to worry. Legolas has been looking stronger more... more present. But Govon doesn’t quite believe it; he has a haunted look, sometimes. I’m glad we’re going so soon, though, for all our sakes. Especially if, as you say, they’ve both been touched by the sound of the sea.’

‘I felt it, also. Like a song you can almost hear, one which promises the answers to all the questions you did not know you needed to ask... it was strange, they were not so badly affected at first...’ 

Suddenly, I could not pretend it was nothing, just a dangling of feet in the dock, suddenly I realised it was more, perhaps dangerously so and I let all my fears out. 

‘Oh, Ness, but once we were a mile or so away from the waterfront, once we properly headed home, it was as if they were naughty little elflings who had suffered an unjust scold, it was distressing to see their pain... how may we support them?’

‘Well, you said Legolas took Govon away saying he had an idea how to soothe the discomfort...?’ She raised an eyebrow. ‘I think an afternoon in private together will help them find new strength. Do not worry too much; if it gets bad again, I will talk to them.’

I felt the warm kindness of her hand on my arm and allowed myself to turn in and be held. It was still strange to me, accepting comfort from another when for so long I had been alone, apart, but this was Nestoril, and she understood my reticence was not reluctance.

‘I have never suffered,’ she said. ‘When I was on the Anduin, I could feel there was something in the waters which, if I let it, would call to me, but... but all the time, I knew who was really calling me home.’

‘Ness, why ever did we part?’

‘The world was growing harsh, aware we were different. After we repelled the dragons, and then the invaders came, they recognised us as Other and, well, once the Vikingr were here to stay, we had to disappear. And it was not so bad, not always... I do not like that you cannot remember as much as some of us; those drugs you mentioned, perhaps... but we were able to keep in touch, now and again. We... I remember once, in the days of the first Elizabeth, we spent an entire summer together in Sherwood Forest; we made a talan in a tall oak and lived off the land, lived as a couple... oh, the stories that sprang up about us... but with autumn, and the falling leaves, we parted again... Still. We would meet, we would write. It has only been the last century or so that we really lost touch...’ 

She gave me a little squeeze and moved out of my embrace, changing the subject, returning to the strangely comforting trivia of her shopping expedition.

‘Now, I found Legolas and Govon the jeans they asked for; we can take them up later, it might distract them a little... Oh, and I brought you a present; I thought you would look wonderful in this...’

‘Nestoril, it is very kind, but...’

I fell silent as she held up a black leather coat, long, fitted, and I raised an eyebrow at her, causing her to grin as she insisted on helping me into it and pushed me in front of the mirror.

Automatically I fastened the buttons, tied the belt. It fitted perfectly and I wondered again at just how well this elleth knew me.

‘Thank you. It is wonderful. But I do not have anything to give to you...’

‘Oh yes, you do,’ she said with a smirk. ‘There are trousers to match.’

I shook my head in mock-despair.

‘What else did you get? Have you any money left?’

‘Plenty; where possible, I used my cards... I must make arrangements for them to be paid when we’ve left...’

‘Parvon’s law firm,’ I said. ‘I will leave written instructions for them, and ask Helpful Pam to post them on once we have departed... along with everything of material value we leave behind, they can be used for the Resettlement Programme... I suppose I should write to Lily as well, come clean... or at least, clean-ish and tell her what we are, why we really have left so that she is prepared if others like us do turn up in need of help... I am sure she will do it.’

It was a relief to both of us when Legolas and Govon came down for dinner, and more of a relief that they seemed to have thrown off their sea-longing enough to celebrate and drink to ships and sailing and parties, to hug Ness and thank her for her thoughtful concern, but they were fine, really, they had found a way to cope... and it would not be for long...

Whatever they had been up to must have been messy, I thought; both appeared to have spent a long time bathing afterwards, their hair still damp, fingertips wrinkled from an excess of water. I did not ask, (I did not think I wanted to know...) I just accepted my son’s brave efforts to be present, to be happy and we went to bed that night secure in the knowledge we were one day nearer to sailing.


	29. Siren Song

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Legolas and Govon's sea longing finds an outlet...

After breakfast next morning I locked myself away with Parvon to sort out all the financial arrangements. It took a surprising degree of effort, so that it was almost noon before we were anything like done, but finally he sat up from the table and summed up our plans.

‘So my lord king, all credit cards together in an envelope with instructions to pay from accounts held by Adrian’s... the letter of explanation you have penned for Mrs Dunbar to be packaged up with the phones and other electronic devices in a stout box and posting to Mrs Dunbar... are you sure about this, sire?’

‘Except my laptop. It will not be much use, I know, no wifi in Valonor...’

‘A solar charging unit would keep the battery topped up, you could still use it for some things,' Parvon said. ‘But I really meant the letter to Mrs Dunbar; will it not simply confuse or alienate her?’

‘I hope not; I have tried to steer a course between announcing we are inherently immortal elves and offering a more plausible explanation; we are a subset, a genetic oddity, with inbuilt longevity and pointed ears; I cite a passing similarity to Williams Syndrome, although without the complications. Now. What else? The hire cars?’

‘Yes, my king; I suggest they could be left for Seamus to return, once he has taken us all to the ship... Sire? Can it be true, really? We really do have a ship, we are sailing tomorrow, all is in order?’

‘Yes, indeed; it is a lot to take in, is it not? By this time tomorrow, I expect we will be underway.’

It was a confusing, anxious time, waiting for a message. Without Cirdan sending word, we were unsure whether we should check out of the hotel that night, or early in the morning. Nestoril spoke with Merlinith and together persuaded everyone it would be a good idea to pack anyway. But several of those who had not gone to Chester the day before were now regretting it, and so I acquiesced to them visiting Birkenhead town centre instead for an hour or two, Seamus driving, Parvon and Triwathon shepherding.

Legolas and Govon had been whispering together and presently announced they would retire to their rooms, ostensibly to pack, but my son had his thumb tucked into Govon’s belt at the back, his fingers easy on his hip.

Nestoril caught my eye and smiled as more and more of our couples decided to follow our advice and head for their own rooms, to pack or pretend to, as they pleased.

‘I want to go for a walk in the gardens,’ she said. ‘After all, we’re practically ready. And I would like to say farewell to the trees of Middle Earth, in some small way.’

We wandered through the gardens, pausing to place our hands against the trunks of the trees, stroking the bark, whispering to the foliage, saying thank you and farewell. 

We had been meandering in the cold, damp air for almost an hour when we noticed Helpful Pam standing in the doorway of the hotel looking out at us.

‘She looks worried,’ Ness said. ‘I suppose she might not understand we were talking about packing, but all our sudden activity... she was hoping we’d be here for longer, I think, and if she’s refused other bookings because of us, that’s a lot of money to lose...’

‘More reparations to make... well, I had better speak to her, I suppose...’

‘Let me,’ Nestoril said, earning my gratitude. ‘I made the booking.’

She waved and smiled and trotted across the grass to join Pam, and by the time I reached them she was midway into an explanation of how we’d had to change our plans and of course, it was a terrible nuisance, and there was no question that our rooms would all be paid for the entire week, and we were not quite certain exactly when we would be leaving, perhaps tonight, perhaps tomorrow morning and, oh dear, it was such a mess...

‘I don’t understand,’ Pam began, but Nestoril, nodding sympathy, began talking before she could finish.

‘No, indeed, no more do we, but there it is...’ She sighed. ‘It really is so vexing, and of course, as soon as we know exactly what is happening we’ll let you know, but it may be that we have to just go... if that’s the case, we’ll leave the keys at reception... would it help if we settled up now?’

‘Well... if you wouldn’t mind... but...’

‘I’ll come to reception in a few minutes, then.’

I returned to the function room to wait, passing the time chatting with some of my Silvans, those whom I did not know well; I was interested in knowing more about how they had been living lately, and after a little shyness, they opened up to me, talking about forests in Wales and holiday encampments, outward bound courses and bush craft camps.

‘You have done well,’ I said, allowing approval to warm my voice. ‘But perhaps I should ask; have you decided, yet, whether you will stay, or sail with us?’

The answers came swift.

‘Sire, I was ever willing...’ and ‘At first, I wondered if it was wise... but now I see there may be a place for us there...’ Another: ‘Against all hope I am reunited with my friend; she is for sailing, and I will not lose her again...’

Only one shook his head.

‘I do not know, sire. It seems disloyal, but you have said, we may choose for ourselves...’

‘Come and see us off, at least; the rest of you, I ask only that you hold your courage for a little while longer. We have had assurances from Cirdan himself, he has helped many Silvans sail and seen them content in Valinor.’

Even the reluctant brightened at that, and sought to convince their companion.

‘Then it must be all right, mustn’t it? Come with us, do.’

‘And we are following our king, so it will be well. Yes, it will not be the same without you.’

‘And our prince is going. And Commander Govon is sailing, and Commander Triwathon.’

‘And I, too,’ Nestoril said, approaching with a smile. ‘I am Silvan, and I am sure it well be fine. Thranduil, if you have a moment, I want you to have a word with Pam about the bill?’

Really, I did not see a problem with paying for longer than we needed, and besides, we would not need money ourselves. But Helpful Pam seemed to not feel comfortable with the idea, and had worked out a compromise which I agreed to after a small token argument.

‘We will simply leave the balance in an envelope with her name on,’ I told Ness as we headed up to our rooms. 

‘Shall we see if Legolas and Govon are... busy packing, still?’ Ness said, raising an eyebrow at me with a knowing grin. 

‘It would be safer just to telephone...’

She laughed, and led me off towards my son’s room. 

With our exceptional hearing, of course we would have heard were Govon and Legolas privately occupied from half way down the corridor and, reassured by the lack of auditory evidence, Ness knocked brightly on the door.

But there was no answer.

‘Something’s wrong,’ she said, ‘I am sure of it! Thranduil?’

I pressed against the door, straining to hear.

‘The shower is running, that’s all, and the bath, too, I think.’ I tried the handle and it opened. ‘Well, the door is not locked... Legolas? Govon?’

‘It sounds wrong!’ Ness said, pushing past me and heading towards the bathing room. ‘Thranduil, help!’

I hurried after her and stared at what I saw for an infinitesimal fraction of a heartbeat. Govon lay submerged beneath the waters of the bathtub, his eyes closed and a drift of tiny bubbles escaping his lips, the taps running and overflowing onto the floor of the room. Legolas was in the separate shower cubicle under the full force of the hissing water, steam rising, his skin pink from the heat...

I reached into the bath and pulled Govon up and over the side even as Ness pushed into the cubicle and turned off the shower. Govon began to cough and I stepped over him to reach my son, hearing Nestoril trying to rouse him. There were towels, and I wrapped one around Legolas, reaching to grab him from the shower cubicle; as I touched him, he collapsed against me and I bore him off to lay him on the bed before going to see what was wrong with Govon.

Ness had shut off the bath taps and had draped a towel over Govon’s back; he was on his hands and knees, heaving and coughing, the floor awash with bathwater.

‘I am sorry,’ he said between bouts. ‘I am so sorry, I was trying to find the song again, I...’

I think I snarled as I left him to Ness’ care and went back to my son.

He was lying as I had left him, wrapped in towels, his wet hair sticking to his face and his eyes... closed. 

It terrified me.

‘Legolas? My son, wake up!’

I patted his cheeks, chafed his wrists and saw his eyes flutter even as he began to shake and rolled away from me.

‘Legolas, ion-nin?’

To my horror he began to weep, drawing himself up into a little curled ball of grief while I stroked the wet hair back from his face and pressed the towel against his skin.

‘What is it, my leaf, what is wrong?’

He turned back towards me and allowed me to reach out and hold him while he sobbed and shook against me.

‘It’s all right, I have you, you are safe... what is the matter, what were you doing, ion-nin?’

‘I was... was trying to... to... and I did, oh, I did...’

‘Govon says they were trying to find the song of the sea,’ Nestoril said, her voice reproving as she supported Govon out of the bathroom. ‘Thranduil, let me see Legolas...? There, penneth, let me look?’

Govon dropped to his knees in front of me, bowing his head.

‘I am sorry,’ he said. ‘It was all right yesterday, and Legolas said it would be well, but... but I know we should not, and... but we did hear the song, Nestoril, we did...’

‘And what did it say?’ she asked crisply.

‘It said; do not do this, you will be hurt, wait, you will see, you will hear us soon, stop...do not try this again... but it sang it so beautifully, we could not help trying...’

‘Oh, Govon!’ Nestoril protested. ‘How could you? And how could you not take care of your fëa-mate?’ 

‘Yes, I am so, so sorry...’

‘No, I told him, I would watch over him,’ Legolas said. ‘Govon, it is my fault... I... could not resist...’

‘Oh, what are we to do with the pair of you?’ Ness threw her hands up in despair. ‘The bathroom is flooded, Govon, you almost drowned, Legolas is scalded...’

‘What? No, no, is he hurt? Legolas, are you?’

Ness folded the wet hair away from my son’s shoulders and showed us the spread of angry red skin.

‘He is not blistered, thankfully, but I need to get my salve. Legolas, come with me. Thranduil, please take care of Govon.’

He was still bowed on the floor, huddling into shame and guilt. I pulled him up onto the edge of the bed, wrapped the towel more securely around his shoulders, and held him close, as if he was an elfling, my elfling. I suppose he was, in a way.

‘I am glad you didn’t come to any serious harm,’ I said. ‘My son would have been devastated... and so would Ness and I. You are almost a son to us.’

‘I’m nearly as old as Ness!’ 

‘Really? One could not tell from your behaviour today.’

‘I am sorry, Adar-in-Honour, I am...’

‘I was attempting to lighten the mood with humour,’ I said, my voice dry. ‘Come. Get yourself dried, get dressed, I will attempt to clear up the mess in the bathroom. I suppose I will need to find out who is in the room beneath, lest they suffer from the overflow...’

‘Adar-in-Honour, I am so s...’

‘Peace, Govon. Get dressed. Just do not do anything so stupid again. If you need to hear the sound of the sea, go into the garden and climb up into one of the trees, listen to the leaves rustling. And use your imagination.’

While I was attempting to mop up the bathroom floor with the help of old towels, the outer door clicked open and I heard Legolas’ voice, soft and emotional.

‘Govon, I promised to watch and I... I let you down. I am sorry, I thought...’

‘No, don’t, my fair elf! Were you badly hurt?’

Nestoril’s voice, then.

‘A very slight scald across his shoulders, he will be fine by the morning... Thranduil? Oh, what a mess! You know, I do not think these two should be left by themselves, look at the state of this floor! We will have to report it... I will do so myself, I will say Govon fell asleep in the bath... and is it too much to expect that you two have done anything towards packing?’

The two exchanged glances and shook their heads, giving Nestoril the opportunity to give them a perfectly mundane scold about the importance of setting a good example and, come along then, where were they going to start...?

I exited quietly, leaving Nestoril to cajole and tease and help restore a sense of normality for my son and honour-son while I returned to our rooms; I needed to do something to take my mind of the fright my son and honour-son had just given me.

As a distraction, I opened up my laptop. Parvon had promised to return from the shopping trip with a charger powered by sunlight which he claimed would keep my laptop working, albeit not connected to the internet; the conversation had served to reminded me I had not checked social media for a day or two. I had been concerned lest being visible online might set Peters and Dean on our trail, but now, this close to sailing, and with them still, I hoped, being investigated, I needed to do something...

Although I had no wish to interrupt Cirdan’s preparations by calling him, I wanted to try to get in touch, and this seemed an easy way. I sent off a message to him, explaining Legolas’ sea-longing was back and Govon was suffering severely, too; what was to be done, when was the earliest we could board?

Then I noticed I had fourteen pending friend requests and only three were from dauntingly proportioned females...

I ran through the profiles, accepting the eleven requests; I found Silvans, yes... but Noldor, also... Little dots by some of the names indicated they were active online, and I sent off messages at once – where are you, are you willing, ready to sail? How soon can you get to Liverpool? Have you phone numbers, may I call?

Within moments replies started coming in; Dorset, Norfolk, Staffordshire, Cardiff, Bradford... How had I missed anyone from so close to Leeds as Bradford? I’d been to Bradford, more than once, in fact...

The door opened behind me and Nestoril came quietly into the room.

‘I had a sudden stroke of inspiration and sent Merlinith and Araspen to our boys,’ she said. ‘They will keep watch for us for an hour... what are you doing there, my dear?’

‘I have found more elves,’ I said, my voice bewildered. ‘And I fear some are too far away to get here in time... yet even if we could delay, I find I do not wish to, not with Legolas and Govon...’

‘Of course you do not... but what is to be done...?’

My laptop pinged; a reply, almost incoherent, but with a phone number attached. Then another...

Morfimbes, Arrad, Haeven, Gowesthel...

Of the Silvans, Dolon was in Bradford, and Noruinir in Cardiff. As soon as I had their numbers, I called them.

‘Will you sail? Can you get to Liverpool today?’

Yes, and yes... and no, and yes... 

By the time I had contacted those six, another three messages and numbers had appeared, and I went through the same process.

‘What do you have in mind?’ Ness asked. 

‘Cirdan,’ I said. ‘If they can get to Liverpool, they can get to Cirdan, or he to them. He can shelter them tonight, with his other passengers. As for the others... Lily and Crispin and Woodford. Parvon’s law firm. It is the best we can do. However, Cirdan said it is possible to sail back, he has done so... a last, last push... if Lily can get busy while we are gone, she can co-ordinate elvenkind and have them ready for the last ship. It is our ship, our last ship... but it need not be that ship’s last voyage...

My phone rang.

‘Cirdan. You have problems, Thranduil?’

Yes. Suddenly, I had eleven new problems. I explained about Legolas, and Govon, and about how I had just found a new cluster of elves. I thought Cirdan sighed.

‘It is wonderful, of course. But we should not delay. In fact, hearing this news of your son, I would say, bring your people aboard tonight, at once... Well. Get in touch with your new finds, give them my number. I have... friends, of sorts, who may be able to help. That is, if you will, King Thranduil. This might mean a change of schedule... no, I know what we can do... Pass on my number, tell them to contact me in haste. I will call you back in two hours, by which time I hope I will I have spoken to my engineer about his enclave of elves... The Uinen’s Gull will be in the West Float by midnight tonight, whatever happens.’

‘Will they be better?’ I asked. ‘Once they board, will the sickness leave them in peace?’

‘It should diminish, and being near to the water constantly, they will become a little immune... we will watch over them. Life jackets, if need be.’

A little easier in my mind, I ended the call and began the process of sending Cirdan’s number around, talking, reassuring, explaining, where I could. Lengthy messages through social networking, explaining further, giving contact numbers for those who feared they would not get here in time.

Ness packed and tidied while I went downstairs to ascertain whether the elves participating in the latest shopping expedition had returned. Duinor bore me company while I waited, and we tried to work out the fewest number of trips it would take to get everyone to the appointed meeting place. Using both minibus and car, we thought four trips should do it, with each journey taking half an hour or so.

‘Have you given Seamus any instructions yet, sire?’ Duinor asked.

‘I have tried to keep him out of the arrangements as much as possible... I’ll leave it until the last moment, I think.’

‘He and I talk, a little, outside of cars and driving and routes and such. I like him but there is something about him... I am sure he understands more than we think.’

‘Too late to worry about it now, Duinor. He’s been helpful so far. Are you packed and ready?’

‘And eager, my king. The waiting, that is the difficult part.’

Yes.

The minibus and a dozen or so happy, laden elves arrived a little after 4 pm, and I called a meeting for an hour later, after suggesting, yes, everything was lovely, and would they please begin putting things away and packing at once... this caused a little rush of excitement and anticipation, and I was glad of Thiriston’s stolid presence calming everyone down.

By the time we reconvened, there had been more news from Cirdan; he expected to be able to have his associates gather and bring at least six of our newly-discovered elves to him in Liverpool. Those who seemed too far away to help already had contact details for our nascent support network; Cirdan didn’t seem to think it was a problem.

‘We have to go,’ he told me. ‘And we have to go very soon. But... that doesn’t mean nobody else can set sail... Bring your people tonight, after midnight. We will be there.’


	30. Boarding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil escorts his company of elves to the ship and bids farewell to Seamus...

We were ready well before midnight, of course, but waited for the agreed time before leaving, those who were not coming in the first trip gathering quietly in the function room to await their turn. I went with the first group and we dropped off our first load of passengers and luggage at around quarter past midnight. The weather had turned cold and wet, with rain hissing across the surface of the black water like angry snakes. Even so, I had to take firm hold of both Legolas and Govon to prevent them running from the car straight to the waterfront.

‘Steady, you two! Be patient! We need to gather in the shadows and wait quietly for word from Cirdan.’

‘Is that our ship?’ Duinor asked, looking across to where a substantial vessel lay moored. It had a more rounded shape than I had expected, giving it a friendly, placid look. The words ‘Uinen’s Gull’ were outlined in lilting script on the prow; yes, that was the ship.

On the boat a lantern lifted, swung to acknowledge us, just as a voice behind me made a no-nonsense enquiry.

‘Bit late at night for a cruise around the docks, sir, isn’t it?’

I turned with a polite expression on my face just as Triwathon slipped from the shadow of the minibus and laid determined fingers on the security guard’s shoulder.

‘It’s perfectly fine,’ the Silvan said. ‘This party, and all the others coming through tonight, have made private arrangements. Someone lost the paperwork, that’s all.’

‘Probably Tezzer,’ the guard mumbled. ‘Always doin’ that sort of thing...’

‘Yes, Tezzer... but it’s all fine... where is Tezzer...?’

‘Round the back...’

‘Fine, that’s fine. Everything’s fine. So, you go off on your patrol, don’t worry about us, don’t see us... good, off you go...’

‘Well done, Triwathon! That old trick of Glorfindel’s? Is it safe to use on humans?’

‘The Námo special, sire?’ Triwathon turned to share a smile with Parvon, who had followed him and now rolled his eyes at mention of the Balrog-slayer. ‘Oh yes, quite safe. It lasts longer on them, that’s all. But we should be swift, and we should remember this... Tezzer of whom he spoke and watch out for him.’

‘Do you know what we are to do, sire?’ Parvon asked. ‘For I think your subjects are getting impatient...’

‘I know my son and honour-son are.’

‘Someone’s coming from the boat now,’ Nestoril said. ‘And I think we should keep our friends away from the water...’

‘Yes. Will you take hold of these two and I will see what I can do? Triwathon, we may need to call on the Námo Special to restrain everyone...’

‘Very good, my lord king, but who is to restrain me... the water... I am sure there are voices...’

‘Parvon! Come here and look after your fëa-mate!’ I called, setting off for the water’s edge. ‘Listen to me, mellyn-nin! Yes, we are about to embark on our last great journey... but we are not going to attempt to swim to Valinor! No, indeed, I understand how the waters sing to you but... but my friends, you must bear it for a little while longer... Come, step away. Try not to behave like tourists, now, come, we do not want more issues with security...’

I managed to persuade some of them to step back from the edge, giving them into the care of those who seemed less influenced by the song of the sea, and went back to those four or five who were still looking at the dark waters as if they were in love.

‘All of you, pay attention now. The longer you linger here, the longer it will be before we can begin our journey. Come away.’

Cirdan approached, one of his escort elves at his side.

‘This is Raeven, who will assist you to board. Waiting at the ship is Eluven, who will be fastening those at particular risk into life jackets. This is not everyone, is it?’

‘No, indeed. And we had an encounter with a security guard... Triwathon calmed him, but there is another somewhere...’

‘Yes... the other has been told a very improbable story and paid well to believe it; do not worry. But we had best make haste.’

Those of us who were less entranced by the waters surround those who hungered for it, and pushed and cajoled them across the bridge where we gave them into the care of Cirdan’s people. I saw my son board, watching him go and hoping I was hiding my concern.

‘We have a plan,’ Raeven confided. ‘Those who suffer are to be taken to the below-decks saloon and there guarded for their own safety. They will be well.’

I nodded and called for Nestoril to board. Her luggage was brought from the car, but she shook her head.

‘You know, Thranduil, I think I had better go back to the hotel with you to escort the next group; together way we can prepare them and there should be less confusion.’

‘I wanted you on board with Legolas...’

‘I know. But we are more persuasive together. Besides, I don’t want to be apart from you.’

‘Oh, very well. Duinor, Seamus; we are ready for the next trip.’

Ness bore Seamus company in the minibus and I rode with Duinor. His hands were clenched on the steering wheel.

‘Are you well, Duinor?’ I asked.

‘I understand now, sire, how hard it is for some of them. The sea... I thought I would not fall prey to its seductions, I thought – I am a wood elf, Silvan and proud. I sail to be with my people, my king, not for longing... but the feeling grows... and now... and to deliberately move away from the water...’

‘Three more trips, Duinor. If you really cannot drive again, well, it will take longer, but there is the minibus.’

‘Thank you, sire. I am sure I will be all right.’

Knowing what to expect, and with Nestoril adding her voice to mine, things went a little more smoothly for the next two runs. I addressed the company first in the function room, explained to keep away from the water, to go directly to the ship, to let themselves be helped, not to linger, and we loaded them up and drove off once more. I thought Ness had the hardest job, for she had more persons in the minibus, but she did have Merlinith and Araspen helping.

Canadion and Thiriston stayed at the hotel to organise the last party to be ready to leave as soon as the minibus pulled up again. I noted that Canadion seemed to have twice as much luggage as everyone else but when I mentioned this in passing to Thiriston, he grinned.

‘Most of it is high heels, sire; bought a couple more suitcases in Chester, while he was shoe shopping. We know there’s footwear in Valinor, but possibly not like the ones he loves. They should last him a while, at least until we can learn how to make more for him.’

‘You really do indulge Canadion, do you not?’

Thiriston shrugged and smiled.

‘We take care of each other. It’s what you do, isn’t it? Wouldn’t be here, but for him.’

‘Well, get his impossible shoes loaded up, then. This is the last trip.’

It was time to settle up with Helpful Pam who had insisted on staying on duty late to see us all safely off. We talked about posting documents on, and Parvon’s law firm, and how another firm, Adrian’s, might be in touch but they were under investigation and not to be trusted. I hoped we had covered everything... of course, where we were going, beyond the bounds of the world, they would hardly be able to send the bailiffs after us if we were to renege on any payments, but that is not how I operate; we had settled all the debts we could.

‘I hope it goes well for you and your hubby,’ I heard Pam tell Nestoril as we left. ‘But at least you’ve got your friends around you.’ 

‘Yes, indeed. And family, too... Thank you for everything, Pam!’

We managed to all fit into the minibus, thus leaving the car at the hotel, and with instructions for Seamus to return the vehicles during working hours; it would mean one fewer journey for him to have to make. The mood in the vehicle was a strange mixture of exuberance and dread, as those who wanted to leave Middle Earth and those who were still not quite sure they ought to sail at all talked about the trip ahead.

‘I understand there will be at least one stop before we head for our final destination,’ I said. ‘You will still have a little time to decide. Speaking to Cirdan may reassure you where I cannot.’

‘But you are our king. We should all follow you anywhere, sire!’ Thiriston protested.

I made eye contact with him in the driving mirror.

‘Yes. That is what Silvans told each other at Dagorlad. They followed my father, even unto death. I require less loyalty than that.’

We reached Duke Street, this time actually crossing the bridge with the minibus to park as close to the ship as possible. It seemed now to have lost some of its friendliness, looming dark and stark and shifting on the waters. There was a broad gangway bridging the space between hull and wharf, several of Cirdan’s elves waiting. 

Helping everyone disembark from the minibus, sorting out luggage and whatever for them, forgetting I was their king and simply being there to help kept me busy until suddenly there was no more baggage, no more elves, just Seamus and I, and Ness, waiting over at the gangplank for me.

‘Seamus, this looks like farewell.’ I reached out and shook his hand. ‘For all your help, and support, for saving us from bombs... thank you. When you get back to the hotel, stay for as long as you wish; your room is paid for the week and I have left word with Pam that if you need longer, my new lawyers will arrange it. If you would like a new task, you could help Mrs Dunbar... Others may come to her for assistance; it does not take much intellect to realise there is something different about us, my kin and I, and we are trying, as you see, to leave these shores; we have friends overseas to whom we are going. I know you will respect any like my kin whom you should meet, and your efficiency would be most helpful to Mrs Dunbar, I am sure.’

To my surprise, although he nodded, he didn’t speak and I thought he looked a little emotional. I went on, giving him a moment to compose himself.

‘You said once you would ask a favour of me, at the right moment. Time, my friend, is running out.’

‘Take me with you,’ he blurted.

‘I’ll do all I can to make you safe,’ I said, hiding my shock. ‘I have left word with the lawyers, there will be a new identity for you, if you need it, funds so you can settle anywhere you wish. But you cannot come with us. I would welcome you, if I could. If it were up to me…’

He fell to his knees and I felt ashamed. 

‘Please, my lord...’

‘I cannot,’ I said. ‘It is not in my power, nor to explain why…’

And then he snatched the hat from his head and I saw his ears were not perfectly rounded, but had little points…

Pointed tips.

I thought about all I knew of him – it was not much, true – but his driving skill, his quick reflexes, his patience...

‘Seamus?’ I asked. ‘Is there something about you I do not know?’

‘Many things,’ he said, his voice cracking with emotion. ‘But my mother’s name was Flora, and when it came down to it, I chose elvenkind.’


	31. Belegornor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Seamus' identity is revealed, and more reunions take place...

I stared down at Seamus, my mind whirling, memory shapes crowding in and fading away on upon another. Seamus looked up, and for the first time I noticed his eyes were that strange, silvered blue that sometimes carried through the males of my line. Another new observation was that he wore an ear cuff with a familiar design, I was sure it had not started out its life as an ear cuff, and so I stared and with a shock recognised the filigree patterning.

He was waiting for an answer.

‘Yes, in that case, yes, of course you can come with us,’ I said, my usually measured tones almost a babble as my words tripped over one another. ‘Now come, get up off the ground and tell me where you came by your ear cuff, there.’

‘This?’ He removed it with care and showed it to me. ‘My mother said it was a gift from my grandfather. She told me he wanted to do more for us, but she wouldn’t let him...’

‘Ai! There is so much I would have done for you, had your mother let me! Perhaps she was right; she wanted to give you what seemed to her a normal life... But there was never a day I did not think about you, never a time you were not in my heart, Belegornor...’

‘I’m not sure... not sure I want you calling me that. I’m Seamus now, have been for the last two centuries.’

‘Seamus, then. Do you have any luggage, Seamus?’

‘As it happens, I do, sir... Sire...’

I smiled and helped him up.

‘Try Daerada,’ I said. ‘And let’s tell Ness your coming with us. She’s been worried about you.’

‘I know,’ Seamus said with an answering smile. ‘I did pick up a little Sindarin, along the way. It’s been so hard, not to let anyone know I understand...’

‘No matter. Is this all you have?’ I asked as Seamus lifted a modest backpack from where he had hidden it in the footwell of the minibus.

‘I have learned to travel light.’

Nestoril had been watching with interest, and now came to meet us with a curious smile.

‘I couldn’t help hearing...’ she said, with a twinkle at Seamus. ‘It’s the ears, you know. Can it be? Are you Flora’s child? I see a resemblance, you have her mouth, I think... but how wonderful! I often wondered what happened to you, we tried, but then there was a dragon and... well.’

‘I remember you, I am sure, from before. You wore blue then, also...’

‘Indeed I did; my healer’s habit... Oh, I remember you when you were newly born, such a beautiful gwinig...’

Tempted to interrupt, to tell Ness to give the poor peredhel a little breathing space, I realised she was in fact having a calming, soothing effect on him with her easy acceptance and kind words; I left Belegornor – Seamus – in her gentle care and hastened past to speak to Cirdan.

‘Have we space for one more, perchance?’

He smiled behind his beard.

‘We have space for hundreds more, Thranduil, but the sooner I get you all boarded, the sooner we can be underway... I’ve had to shut Govon and Legolas in one of the saloons for their own safety...’

‘Of course. Ness, Seamus... come now. Cirdan, Seamus is a kinsman from the old days...’

‘Be welcome, then... Seamus, is it now...? if you will all follow Eluven, he will take you to your friends. We will be underway presently and I will give you the tour of the vessel as soon as I have the leisure to do so.’

We did as we were instructed while behind us preparations began for our departure; the rattle of chains, the retraction of the gangplank, the securing of the sides of the vessel, the sudden start and chug and smell of the engines.

‘If you will, my lord, down these steps and ahead you will see a door; it is locked on the outside, the key is here. I give charge of it to you; within you will find one of my people looking after your sea-sufferers.’

‘My thanks.’ 

I descended and unlocked the door, passing through to find about half a dozen of my Silvans there, Legolas and Govon too. They all wore bright yellow life jackets over their garments and generally looked forlorn and a little lost.

‘Do not worry, all of you,’ I said. ‘We are preparing to leave. You will all feel better soon.’

‘Promise?’ Govon said in a wistful voice.

‘Adar?’ Legolas glanced from me to where Nestoril had firm hold on Seamus’ arm. ‘Is that... why are you bringing Seamus? No offence,’ he added, even though he’d spoke in Sindarin.

‘None taken – Adar,’ Seamus said, stepping forward.

‘What? Wait, no, that’s not right, Seamus... Flora cannot have said that to you?’ Nestoril said hastily, covering for Legolas who was still so shocked at seeing and hearing an apparent human speaking Sindarin that he hadn’t quite taken in the words. ‘Legolas was your sponsor, yes, but not your father...’

Seamus shook his head.

‘Slower, please,’ he said. ‘Or... or English... yes, sponsor, she said, but... but why else would you? And if your father, his is my grandfather, then...?’

‘You are – were Flora’s Belegornor? Then it is uncle, I am your uncle,’ Legolas said, diverted out of his sea-longing by the shock. ‘Adar, can I speak freely of this...?’

Not all of the elves in the saloon with us were close to our family, but... we were all sailing together, we were all heading to the same place...

‘Let me,’ Nestoril said. ‘Not being so close to matters, I may find it easier. And I certainly saw what was going on. Seamus, if that’s all right with you, of course?’

I don’t think I was the only one who was relieved when Seamus nodded.

‘I am sorry, if... I meant no offence...’

‘You weren’t the first to make that assumption,’ Legolas said with a small smile. ‘But, anyway, I am glad, so very glad to see you again. I – many of us, we looked for you, when the dragon came, and after. We feared for you.’

‘Thank you. My mother – she remembered you with fondness. Always.’

‘I remember her. She liked hot milk with honey, and a little sweet spice added.’

‘Come, let us go back up onto the deck and take a walk; you must have many questions,’ Nestoril said, threading her hand through Seamus’ arm. 

I waited until Nestoril had led my former chauffeur and always-grandson out of the saloon and went to sit next to Legolas.

‘I understand now, I think, why he would always blush when you and Govon were greeting or parting from each other...’

Legolas gave a short laugh.

‘Yes, I suppose... especially if he thought... Ai! Ada!’

‘Indeed.’ I glanced across at him with a small smile. ‘It’s taken your mind off your thalassophilia, hasn’t it?’

‘A little. Really, though... yes. It feels... better. Govon?’

‘I think... I still want to listen to the water, but... I don’t feel like I want to eat it, to immerse myself in it, to be with it...’

‘Good.’ I stood up, aware of the slight instability of the vessel beneath my feet. ‘The rest of you – think about how you are feeling. We will be underway shortly.’

*

The ship lurched in its moorings as a dirty, loud chugging began somewhere beneath us and the elves close to me called out in consternation.

‘Be at peace, all of you,’ I said. ‘It is merely a sign we are about to leave. Now, do not get too excited. We are not going far, not at first. But we are about to depart. If your sea-hunger has abated, let us go up on deck.’

I led them up the stairwell and out onto the deck where they looked around as if for the first time, several of them exclaiming at the sting of rain and gusts of salted winds, funnelled by the surrounding buildings.

It seemed to take forever, as if we were not moving at all, but the buildings along the quayside began to shift position, sliding past us as the boat edged through the waters of the West Float and towards the River Mersey. Overhead, the sky was a mixture of deep night and orange-tinted clouds, the air a mix of brine and sludge and hope and dread.

I stood with my arm around Legolas, Govon at his other side, until Ness and Seamus joined us at the rail, and then I put my arm around her as well. I noticed she had her hand still tucked into Seamus’ arm, and he didn’t seem to mind.

‘Are you well, Seamus?’ I asked.

‘Very well, sir – Daerada.’

The restricted sides of the float converged suddenly as we passed between the piers of a bridge and then the narrow waters widened abruptly, and the ‘Uinen’s Gull’ slid out into the river, her prow turning in, her stern swinging wide so that it felt as if we could breathe, somehow. On our right, a couple of miles away, the lights of the Liverpool coastline prickled and outlined the land while much nearer, to our left, the more sparsely lit coast glittered past.

‘We’re very close to shore,’ Govon said.

‘Presumably since we will be docking soon. Seacombe, I think. It is not far.’

The vessel slowed, easing past what looked like its regular mooring to lay alongside a rocky wharf and, looking down towards the prow, we saw a small section of the sidewall of the ship swing open and a sudden little flurry of people jumping and hurrying aboard, helped by two others who stood by to assist. One glanced up, I caught his eye, and he smiled, bowing his head, his face brightening.

‘Does someone know where Canadion is?’ I asked. ‘He needs to come to the main deck, at once.’

‘I will get him,’ Nestoril said. ‘What is it?’

‘It is who,’ I said. ‘Look there; it is Merenor.’

Nestoril gave a little gasp as she, too, recognised the elf, and hastened away in search of Canadion. I hurried down to the main deck, partly to greet the new arrivals and partly to witness the reunion, aware that the others were following. I remembered Canadion’s anxious tears when there had been no news of his father, but I had no idea what Merenor might know of his beloved youngest son’s whereabouts...

‘Mellyn-nin, welcome... we are glad you are able to join us. Yes, it is true, we are sailing, yes, all is well, all will be well...’

I was interrupted by a shout and the clattering of heels on wood.

‘Ada! Ada, Thiriston, it is my Ada!’

‘Is that my Canadion?’ Merenor called out, grinning as his son leapt at him, uncaring of the stares as they hugged and laughed and wept.

Nestoril arrived, and as the sides of the ship were secured and the shouts came to come about, she went up to the other elf who had been helping, and who even now was trying to look busy with the new arrivals.

‘Hanben? Is it you?’

‘Healer Nestoril? My dear friend... it is so good to see you again...! I did not know you had stayed!’

‘Nor I you! Come, greet my husband, your king.’

Merenor had just about composed himself enough to hold Canadion at arm’s length to properly look him over.

‘Ai, ion-nin! Just look at you! So beautiful, still! And that colour is lovely on you! Can you imagine what your naneth would say if she could see you?’

Canadion giggled. 

‘Oh, Ada, never mind Naneth, I am so glad to see you!’

‘My little Canadion, you were ever glad to see me! And how are things with you?’

‘Wonderful, Ada, wonderful! I have my Thiriston with me, still, you see, and... oh, there is my Adar-in-Honour! Hello, Adar Hanben!’

Merenor grinned as Thiriston came up. ‘Come and give your honour-ada a hug, then!’

‘Merenor, it is good to see you. We couldn’t find out...’

‘Well, no, we had to go on the run for a century or two after that trouble with those Luddite fellows, you know... then we found shelter with Cirdan, he runs a tight ship though, we had to be very close with our identities to keep everyone safe. Still. We’re pretty handy with boats, now, and engines.’

‘Master Hanben.’

‘Thiriston. How’s the hand?’

‘Still attached to my wrist, I thank you,’ I heard Thiriston say.

‘Well, this is lovely, but we must report to our captain,’ Merenor said. ‘We have a ship to drive. Another hug then, penneth, that’s lovely! We’ll catch up later, I promise.’

‘Would the rest of you like to come with me?’ Nestoril said to the newly-boarded. ‘It is all a little confusing, I know. I am Nestoril, wife of Thranduil, formerly the Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen...’

‘Yes, follow my wife,’ I said. ‘No doubt someone will be along to tell us what is happening, as soon as it is known.’

Before following, however, three of the elves came to bow the knee to me.

‘Yesterday I was in...’ Hull, Gloucester, Cardiff... ‘And you called, and then we spoke to Cirdan, and now we are here! We are safe, beyond hope!’

‘Indeed, you are here, and we are reunited to make one last journey together.’

*

The dregs of the night were so dark that Queen Beruthiel’s cats would have struggled to see, and around our faces the air was cold, biting and salted with the sea. Around me I heard one after another of my Silvans sigh as the engines engaged once more and we nosed our way out into the channel, leaving the coast, outlined by orange and blue and yellow lights, behind. 

Ahead of us, the estuary opened its mouth to the sea, beyond us lay our next landfall, the Isle of Man, then Ireland, and beyond that, America and somewhere between, the route to the Straight Way...

Presently Cirdan came down from the wheelhouse to stand at my side.

‘We’re going to make port on the south coast of the Isle of Man,’ he said. ‘We have word of a small enclave there, living amongst one of the religious communities. Some score or so. It is a delay, but a worthwhile one.’

‘Of course; it’s your ship, Cirdan.’

‘Then we’ll head on towards Ireland, go round the northern coast and pick up a few more stragglers, head south along the west coast... some of those you messaged me about earlier, I’ve arranged for them to be collected by helicopter and light aircraft, they should be able to get to one or other of the airports by the time we arrive. After that, we’ll head on out to the Straight Way. All the way home to Valinor.’


	32. Farewell From a Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which an unexpected person turns up to wave Thranduil off...

We made landfall off the Isle of Man to collect the elves Cirdan had mentioned; I had hoped some of those who had contacted me late would have been amongst them, but no.

‘Don’t worry,’ Cirdan said, once the new passengers had boarded. ‘I’ve made arrangements for the rest to meet us in Ireland; more flights, more airports, more time for them to get there...’

‘I see. And no doubt you will repeat your exhortations that I should not worry, but what of the ship? Will it be missed, and what will happen as a result?’

‘Oh, my people in Liverpool are all over it, don’t w... well. In brief: Some time ago, a consortium of associates bought an old ferry and reregistered her as the ‘Uinen’s Gull’; we worked on her in our spare time with a view to sailing West in her... but the need to sail outstripped the time available to us, and it became obvious we would have to leave before the original ‘Gull’ was ready... I have... exchanged identities between the vessels; this is now become the ‘Uinen’s Gull’, I have all the papers to prove it...’

‘But... is that even possible? Not to cast doubt on your skills, Cirdan, but...’

‘I don’t know if you remember a certain vessel called the ‘Titanic’... it was a tragedy... but what is not as widely known is that there is evidence to suggest it was not, in fact, the ‘Titanic’ which sank, but her sister ship, the ‘Olympic’... nothing to do with me, of course, and the theory has its detractors... but I offer it as proof that such things are plausible... and, in fact, my people have performed all manner of nefarious deeds to ensure this ship will not be missed. An unfortunate incident in the hold will make it appear the ferry I was thought to be testing is in need of significantly more maintenance than expected... so, you see, it is quite above-board... after a fashion...’ He sighed. ‘It is a shame, I have had to effectively scupper the original Gull, which we were fitting up for the voyage West... another six months, we would have been ready. But... we ran out of time.’

‘Was it our doing, Cirdan? Did you bring your plans forward just for us?’

The look he gave me was tolerantly amused.

‘You are important, Thranduil, but not quite that important. No, it was another matter, to do with one of my elves.’

‘I see. Well, I am pleased to hear you have not fallen into criminality on my account.’

‘I might, if it were necessary. Still, there really is no need to worry about the stragglers; they’ll have time to catch up with us in Ireland and they’re in good hands.’

*

We stuttered around the coast, collecting a handful of elves here, a couple there, and prepared to make our final Irish landfall several days later and some score of elves richer; it was here, too, that any reluctant Silvans would be able to disembark, and Cirdan assured me that there would be persons waiting who would escort them to a place of sanctuary; I was delighted, however, to learn that nobody wanted to leave the ship.

'Not now,’ one of the elves said. ‘We have come so far, and are amongst so many others, it gives us courage. We would not abandon you now, sire, not after all you have done to help us.’

Our anchorage was off one of the many islands at the entrance to Galway Bay, a narrow jetty that entailed much finessing before the 'Uinen’s Gull' was in proper position for the gangplank to be lowered, but it was done. I caught sight of someone on the jetty, two someones, and put myself in the shadows where I could not be immediately seen; there, amongst a cluster of elves, looking cross and tired in the early morning light, Lily and Crispin were waiting.

‘Cirdan? I suppose it is out of the question to allow the humans to board?’ I said hopefully, causing Ness to shake her head at me and Cirdan to raise an eyebrow.

‘But my people have been in radio contact with these humans for the last two days, advising them how to bring three of your Silvans to meet the Gull, Thranduil,’ Cirdan said. ‘They said you know them...’

‘I do, indeed, know them. But... could you not have told me?’

‘Mrs Dunbar said it would be a nice surprise for you,’ Cirdan said.

‘A surprise, certainly...Ness, does Lily look out of sorts to you? She has a fearful temper when she is out of sorts...’

Ness patted my arm. ‘At least we have seen her before she’s caught sight of us, my dear,’ she said. ‘But maybe if we both go ashore, it would seem friendlier...’

‘Very well,’ I said. ‘Cirdan, please – whatever you do, do not leave without us!’

As I disembarked, Ness at my side, all the waiting elves bowed, or dropped to one knee, leaving Lily and Crispin staring at each other. Then Lily reached down to several of the elves closest to her, and we heard her exhorting them to get up.

‘It’s only Thranduil, after all!’

‘Lily,’ I said. ‘This is a surprise.’

‘You... I... well!’

I took her momentary confusion as a chance to slip into Silvan and greet the elves around us.

‘Well met, my friends, it is good to see so many of you here. Rise; there is no need to bow, I am no longer your king...’

‘Sire...’ one said, and faltered.

Ness patted my arm. ‘Is that you, Gowesthel? I thought so! Come, who remembers Healer Nestoril? Come and say hello...’

Lily had her arm protectively around two of the ellyn. She glared at me.

‘This is Len... and his friend here is called Ed... and they turned up on my doorstep on Monday morning, just as I was about to leave for work! They were cold, and hungry, and a bit fed up, and they were looking for you...’

‘Thank you, then, for helping them find me,’ I said. ‘Lendor, is it? I remember your singing of old. And your fea-mate is Ed...?’

‘Edwenthor, your majesty.’

‘Edwenthor. I am pleased you are here with us. Will you sail?’

‘Yes, sire. We... we are grateful, your humans have been kind, but they are a little odd, are they not?’

I could only be grateful it was said in Silvan.

‘Kind of heart, though. Will you board? You will find many old friends on the ship... go, see, there is Nestoril; I must talk to my human friends for a moment... Crispin, Lily, this is an unexpected meeting...’

Crispin contented himself with a wary nod, and then busied himself assisting the elves aboard with their luggage, leaving me to Lily’s mercy.

‘It’s not that I mind...’ Lily began, once the elves had turned towards the Uinen’s Gull. ‘But...’

‘Then, if you do not mind...’

‘...I’m pretty sure I didn’t agree to all this, you know. And...’

‘I thought you had?’ I said, making my voice sound innocently aggrieved. ‘At the wedding reception? Or perhaps you could not remember?’

‘Ha! I was not drunk, Thranduil! Anyway, no, your friends, your relatives, yes, all right. But... and... I didn’t think it’d be straight away! And, well, you were odd when I found you, true, but I wasn’t expecting Len and Ed... at first they were a bit unhinged, I thought,’ she went on, lowering her voice at the last. ‘You should get that wife of yours to look them over. Said they were... that they were elves... well, I mean...’

‘I suppose it must feel that I have given you an impossible task and yet one you find it difficult to refuse,’ I put in, not wishing to debate the matter of elvenkind unless I had to. ‘But this is the price you pay, you see, for being kind-hearted.’

‘I do, really... I mean, to do all this properly, it’s a full-time job! But what if nobody else comes, then I’m left twiddling my thumbs with nothing to do and too many places to do it in... anyway, that envelope you gave me at your wedding, there were keys in it, I wasn’t expecting your keys... but when Ed and Len showed up, we hauled off to Woodford and settled them into the top flat. And it looked like you’d all decided you were leaving, that you all knew... but we found some stuff that had been left, thought you might want it... there was a stack of clothes, and some shoes and boots, we brought them... and I had to take time off, because your friends didn’t want to be alone there, so I ended up in the bottom flat. Then your letter arrived and some stuff from a solicitor’s, Oakheart’s... and, well... it’s been a bit of an upheaval, to say the least...’

‘Yes. And then you came here...?’

‘Well, I had a message from your friend Dan... and he seemed to think it would be really helpful if we came with your friends... and I wanted the chance to tell you, just to tell you, you expect a lot from people, Thranduil!’

‘It’s true, of course; I have asked much of you.’ I tried to sound meek. ‘But to whom else could I turn? And now Len and Ed are here, and safe, thanks to you. Many of these other elves are safe, thanks to you...’

‘Elves?’ Lily swooped on the word. ‘Did you just say elves?’

Ah.

‘I... may have done. In order to make Len and Ed feel better......’

‘Thranduil...’

‘I am sorry there is no time to really talk,’ I said hastily. ‘We need to ride the tide and so must get on board. Thank you, Lily, for everything. ’

I backed away hastily to where Nestoril was waiting and trying not to smirk at my discomfiture.

‘What did I hear?’ she asked. ‘That you ask a lot of people?’

‘It is true, of course; at least, I did, in the old days. I was a king, then; it was my duty to do so...’

She laughed and tugged me up the gangplank and we waved farewell to Crispin and Lily, my first, and last, human friend in the modern age.

*

‘You know, of course, that we are not beholden to the tide in these waters?’ Cirdan murmured as the gangplank was stowed after us.

‘In fact, I had thought as much,’ I replied. ‘But I doubt Lily realised. She is, indeed, a very fine person, for a human, but had I stayed talking longer I am sure she would have begun to scold...’

But it had been worth the threat of a lecture; including those Lily and Crispin had escorted, there were now an extra thirty or so elves on board, some of them Sindar, many more of them Silvans. Moreover, Thiriston was quietly reunited with his knitwear, and Canadion, more vocally, with the footwear he had reluctantly left behind.   
We chugged out of the bay and once the land was a smudge behind us, Cirdan turned the nose of the ship towards the open sea and Valinor.

Of course, it was a matter for celebration, so we planned a celebration.

Merlinith and Araspen got busy with their hooks and their wool and crocheted an elaborate string of bunting with which to festoon the lower saloon in preparation for the party. It swung from the low ceiling and wound around the piers and behind the bar, rhythmical arcs and loops and hoops of little coloured triangles interspersed with flowers. I noted Canadion looking, and saw him lean in against Thiriston.

‘It’s very pretty.’

‘Reminds me of our wedding.’

‘Oh, that was so wonderful!’ Canadion sighed. ‘And then to get back to our room and find it decorated with that special bunting Arwen made for us... I so wish I could thank her, but... but... she won’t be there, will she? She is dead, poor thing, and we will not ever see her and...’

‘Hush. Don’t cry for Arwen, she did what she wanted. There’s places for Men, after, and she’ll have gone there, following her husband. Don’t ever cry for someone who’s been doing what they wanted to do, penneth.’

‘You are right, it is just... such a long time ago, and a little bit sad.’

‘Come on. Time to get ready for this party, then. See if we can find a quiet corner and cheer you up a bit, yes?’

There was little private space on the ship; it was, as Cirdan had pointed out, a ferry, not a cruise liner. But it was a big enough vessel that we managed to each find a place to be private, if we wanted it, if we were discreet. Elves are not normally shy, of course, but some things are not for sharing and the married or vowed couples amongst us had already discovered a number of strategies to which they could resort, to maintain a semblance of privacy. Sometimes a piece of fabric strung across an opening was enough of a hint, an ‘out of order’ sign slung unexpectedly on a door... and one could generally hear, and stay away.

It seemed below my dignity, however, to scurry round with purloined signs and bits of sheeting, and although there was, indeed, a room which Ness and I could have appropriated, upon seeing the almost sneering expressions on the faces of those Noldor who overheard it being offered us, I declined with dignity and pride, whereupon First Engineer Hanben declared it really was not fit for passengers and to make things easier, he and the Second Engineer would bunk down in there, so that if they were needed about the boat in the night, they would disturb fewer people.

At the time, Nestoril had laughed at my reticence and agreed that, after all, it was not such a long voyage... but a few hours before the party, just as the sky was dusking, she led me by the hand through an uncomfortable shower of sleety rain to the mid-deck and leaned against the railing.

‘What do you see?’ she asked, mischief in her eye.

‘I see my lovely wife getting her glorious hair wet in the somewhat lumpy rain.’

‘Apart from that. Behind me.’

‘One of the lifeboats?’

‘Our lifeboat, beloved. Come; under the tarpaulin there is a bedroll and some cushions. Everyone else will be getting ready for the celebrations, we won’t be missed.’

She smiled, her mouth curving up deliciously and slipped under the tarpaulin, that elegant little hand grasping at me until I sighed and followed her into the enclosed privacy of the space, and had any been watching, they would have seen the boat swinging from its anchoring chains out of time with the rocking of the boat, against the blowing of the breeze.

Of course, they would not have realised it was Ness, deliberately throwing her weight from side to side to make it sway, just to tease...


	33. The Cry of Gulls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the 'Uinen's Gull' heads for Valinor and there's a party to celebrate...

If Ness and I came late to the celebration, none commented when we made our way down to the saloon.

The dark wood gleamed, the bunting festooned the walls and crossed the ceiling, and there was so little room that the doors had been flung open and the party continued outside in spite of the unpleasant weather.

Ness, of course, inserted herself into the throng, dragging me with her and soon I was surrounded by happy, talking elves. Even the Noldo contingent was mingling, joining in.

It seemed everyone had made an effort. Canadion was in what he confided was his favourite party dress, a long, floaty thing in shades of green which he had teamed with matching shoes bearing crystals in the heels. Thiriston had, from somewhere, found a kilt, one of the modern, Scottish plaids in shades of blue and green which he wore with a shirt and a matching waistcoat. Merenor and Hanben were present, leaning easily against the bar of the saloon, Merenor’s eyes more mischievous than usual and Hanben wavering between embarrassment and delight.

Canadion seemed to have appointed himself master – mistress – of ceremonies. Once everyone had drinks, he pulled at the rope on the saloon bell for attention.

‘Everyone!’ he called out. ‘You may not know this – he had tried to keep it a secret from us all – but very soon now it will be Master Hanben our Chief Engineer’s begetting day! And, since we need a celebration – and since this will be his last begetting day in Middle Earth and we do not know how long it will take us to hit the Straight Way, we decided this would be the perfect opportunity for a party! We all have reason to thank our Master Hanben – for keeping the ship going, for bringing our friends to us... and I especially, for he has kept my Ada out of mischief for the last three Ages...’ He paused for breath, and then went on again in softer tones. ‘And he has made my father happy, which brings me such joy to see... So, we have mingled the old customs with the new and somewhere there is cake...’

He looked meaningfully at Govon, behind the bar, and my honour-son lifted up a large, elaborately decorated and iced cake.

‘...but no candles, for, indeed, the cake would need to be very large to hold them all! Master Hanben, happy Begetting Day for the near future, and we are glad to share with you. Now, let us have a speech and we can cut the cake!’

‘What is there to say but, thank you?’ Hanben said. ‘I am most grateful... I think. I do not like a fuss.’

‘But you do like cake,’ Merenor said, grinning.

‘Yes, my rogue, I do indeed like cake. Might I know to whom I owe my especial thanks...?’

Merlinith pushed her fëa-mate forward.

‘Araspen did all the baking, to Master Merenor’s recipe, and Canadion and Merenor iced it.’

‘Which recipe?’ Hanben turned to Merenor, eyes hopeful. ‘Could it be lemon? Honey? Cinnamon?’

‘Cut yourself a slice, and see.’

The entire saloon waited in anticipation as Hanben sliced into the cake, taking a restrained piece.

‘Lemon and cinnamon!’ he announced. ‘My very favourite!’

‘Well, of course,’ Merenor grinned. ‘Nothing less for you, Hanben.’

Somehow, there was enough to go around, there was plenty, and if Hanben was swift to retreat from the centre of attention, he was also polite in speaking to everyone who congratulated him, taking time to talk to all present.

‘Did you get anything nice?’ Ness asked, when he paused by us.

‘Merenor promises me something very special later,’ Hanben said, blushing as he realised his words were open to interpretation and Nestoril laughed. ‘No, that is, he found... brought...... However, sire, I understand you were gifted something rather wonderful on the occasion of your marriage?’

‘Indeed; a bicycle. It is below decks somewhere, they assure me it is safely stowed... I would like to try it around the ship, but the notion is quite alarming to some... may I hope you and your clever innovation skills will be able to keep the mechanisms running? That is, if you know the workings of bicycles...’

‘Your majesty, I should think I do! Why, I like to think in my own small way I helped develop them...’

‘It’s true,’ Merenor said, coming to join his fëa-mate. ‘Hanben here put the Archer into Sturmey Archer... or did you not realise...?’

‘No, I did not... but I have ridden very ancient bicycles with that legend upon their gears... how truly wondrous! Just how many inventions have been yours, over the long years, I wonder?’

‘Mine, or Merenor’s,’ Hanben said.

‘Let me guess,’ Nestoril said. ‘The stethoscope?’

‘Sadly, no. But the sphygmomanometer, that was I...’

‘The Rubik’s Cube?’ Legolas asked, pausing to join in.

‘Alas, no, that was Rubik.’

‘Although Hanben did have more than a passing influence on the Furby...’

‘My finest hour...’

‘You have many finest hours, beloved. I quite liked the waterbed, myself, and silly string, although not at the same time... Now, come, let’s see if there’s any cake left.’

Later, the weather cleared, and we spilled out onto the decks. There was even dancing, along to a portable music system which Hanben attributed to his spouse. 

The clouds shredded themselves to bits, drew apart and amidst their rags the moon silvered out, a beacon, and more than one of my Silvans burst into song at the sight. Nestoril snuggled against my chest.

‘What a delightful evening!’ she said into my lapels. ‘Shall we leave? I happen to know where there is a lifeboat?’

‘A wonderful idea,’ I said. ‘Unfortunately, it would seem Merenor does, too; I have just seen him lifting the tarpaulin to permit Hanben to board it... Safety checks, no doubt.’

She laughed.

‘No doubt. Well, it is good that they are so conscientious, I suppose.’

*

Two days later, Ness and I were taking a walk around the ship. Seamus was with us at Ness’ invitation, and she encouraged him to ask any questions he might have, and talk about his past, although he had been doing just that, off and on, ever since we boarded the ‘Uinen’s Gull’.

‘There is not much left to say, really,’ he said. ‘Once I had chosen elvenkind, I moved around a little... I know I could have come to you, but my mother’s pride forbade me... I went to Lothlórien, for a time, and after the War of the Ring, I joined one of the wandering companies. Somehow, I could not quite bring myself to sail... it seemed wrong, yet I could never explain why... perhaps because of my human ancestry. I was fascinated, and wary... so many left across the seas, but not you, Daeradar; I continually heard of Thranduil, who never quite disappeared for long... after the world changed, after the dragons had all been killed, I began to try to be nearer you. From curiosity, perhaps. From some kind of sense that you were, after all, family... later, when I had the chance to attach myself to your lawyers, to serve you, I could not resist, it was an enticing prospect. Previously, I had been working behind the scenes for you, but then I was offered the chauffeuring job and although it put me closer to you than ever before, than I really felt easy with, it was too tempting... I saw how considerate you were of the human woman Mrs Dunbar’s feelings, and found I could not help but admire you; I even liked your son, my father as I thought he was at the time. Although to see him with another was shocking...’

‘I remember you blushing,’ Ness said. ‘I thought it was sweet, I did not realise why, of course...’

‘I am glad he isn’t my father,’ Seamus said. ‘It seemed wrong to like him, after he had abandoned my mother...’

‘Seamus, it really wasn’t like that,’ Ness said earnestly.

‘I know, I know now some of what you tried to do for her – for us. But there was a long while that I thought, why? Why did not someone insist?’

‘Because the one time someone tried to insist, Flora misunderstood, and she ran off into the forest alone,’ Ness said. ‘Which is how come you were delivered, in the forest, by two of Thranduil’s finest, Thiriston and Canadion.’

‘You can imagine my surprise, seeing Canadion again, and in a dress and heels... but of all of them, after Legolas, Mother spoke most highly of those two. She would sing to me about storms in the forest, something Canadion had taught her...’

We stood at the rail and listened to Seamus talk about his life in the little cottage at the edge of Dale, of always love, always enough, some sickness, some worry... a cousin who would have married Flora, but she refusing, keeping herself single instead.

I did not know whether to honour her, or pity her, for that.

*

Apart from the brief parting of the clouds on the night of the party, the weather we had was grim, grey and iced, the sea sullen and bleakly black. 

My Silvans mostly huddled in the cafe bar, away from the Noldor, and those of us who could took it in turns to try to cheer them.

Nestoril spoke warmly of friends waiting, new trees to revere, new woods to explore. Govon tried to convince them that, if he was prepared to go, they had no cause to fear.

I thanked them for the honour of their continued loyalty, and wished I could do more.

So one evening, as I stared out across the sultry seas, I thought I could see a change, a break in the bleakness somewhere ahead, and the thought of any brightness lifted my spirits.

'Nestoril? Do you see there?' 

'What is it, Thranduil?' she asked, looking out. 'Oh... What is it?'

'I don't know. A break of some kind.'

'Should we alert Cirdan? Or Hanben?'

I shook my head. 'I fear they may be busy.'

But others had heard my exclamation and were coming to see, calling down to those in the saloons below, and as Ness pointed out the break in sea and sky, we felt something build...

'We should spread out, seek to even the ship,' I murmured. And, ever obedient, my Silvans moved around along the decks.

'Ada, Ada!' Legolas ran up, Govon, his shadow, close behind. 'Do you feel I? Do you see? Oh, Ada, can you not hear it now?'

'I can,' Ness said, a smile starting and she grabbed my arm excitedly, jumping up and down in glee.

And then I, too, heard it.

A distant song of welcome, of home-coming, soothing the lingering ache of the sea-longing to rest, and there was a little bump, the bleak, black sea fell away beneath the ship, the grey clouds above peeled back, and we were on azure seas beneath cornflower blue skies...

The seas rose beneath us, carrying us up even though it felt we were still on an even keel, and I glanced about me at the faces of my family, my friends, my Silvans.

'So blue. So very blue,' Triwathon was saying, standing in the compass of Parvon’s arms. 'Bluer than... oh, than anything...'

There were tears on his face. Legolas was weeping. Govon too, consoling each other. Ness reached her soft fingers up to stroke my cheek and I realised. I, too, was not unmoved by this beautiful transition.

'Salt,' I said. 'It is the salt air, it...'

'Never mind that,' she said. 'Hold me a moment; we're going home, at last, and suddenly, I feel like crying.’

*

Of course, we had to have another celebration.

Presently, once Cirdan had come up and seen what was going on, he gave the order and someone, somewhere, switched off the engines, the ship shuddering to a silent stillness, trusting now to the current and Lord Ulmo.

We gathered in the rapidly-warming sunlight to sit, and eat, and drink, to sing the old songs and tell the old tales.

'In less than two weeks we will be in our forever-home,' Cirdan said. 'And while we celebrate, we must also give thought to what awaits us there. And who.'

It was a very good point; for me, both hope and concern; my sons would be waiting, perchance, healed, I hoped… but their mother, too, was there, my first love…

I was, possibly, going to have some explaining to do…

‘Our son!’ Canadion said, smiling joyously. ‘Our little Lhostor, who sailed long ago, to be happier.’

Thiriston slid an arm round his husband’s shoulders. ‘He’s in for a shock, I think! But, yes, it will be a joy to see him again. Not that he wasn’t right to go…’

‘…his first parents will be there, of course. He may not need us. It doesn’t matter, though, if he is happy…’

‘This is part of why I brought the matter up,’ Cirdan said. ‘In my experience, those who have sailed before are always glad to see those who follow after. I have seen reunions between adopted children, first parents, second parents… it can feel awkward, but… who would not be grateful, to those who comforted their children when they had gone? Do not fear, Captains. If your son loved you once, he will love you still.’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Merlinith give a little sigh, Araspen lean towards her to whisper and smile.

But Cirdan was not, yet, done.

‘There is another issue, and it may be a little more delicate than the matter of parental responsibility… there are some, it is known, who may have… remarried, perhaps… and there, I do not know quite how to speak…’

‘Of course, if one behaved as one should, it would never be a problem,’ I heard a Noldo say from the back to an ellon seated at his side. ‘These wild Silvans, asking for trouble…’

Cirdan’s mouth worked as if he was trying not to smile.

‘For example, if there are any here with… particular memories of… Lord Elrond… I would be glad to speak privately with them concerning his marital predilections… I will be discreet, as I have had to be before, in fact…’

The Noldo subsided and Ness hid a smile. Thiriston made a fist of one hand, stroking his fingers over, while Canadion nudged and cuddled in against him. Legolas and Govon shared a glance and a hug.

‘Our thanks,’ I said. ‘No doubt there will be individuals with some concerns, some with other matters weighing on them. Many things will be different, I am sure. It is a new challenge. How long, do you think, it will take to get there… to get home?’

‘It varies, they say, according to how eager the passengers… less than two weeks, more than one, generally. In the meantime, any who have questions may approach me freely. Now that we have crossed onto the Straight Way, there is really very little for me to do, until we near land.’

Our spirits lifted, but during the third night after joining the Straight Way, Legolas was taken ill, twice in the space of a few hours, Govon frantic that, so near, so very near, his beloved could still be in danger. 

Ness frowned, but tried to speak bracingly. 

‘It is not long, not really, and not far; hold to your care for each other.’

‘But every time my fair elf seeks reverie, I am terrified he will not come back!’

‘I know, Govon dear, I know. But what can you do, keep him awake the whole of the way across?’

‘Would that work?’ Legolas asked, clutching at Govon’s hand. ‘I don’t want to leave you, Govon, I don’t want to fade… Ness, would it?’

‘I do not know; I was joking, but…’

‘We’ll just have to keep you awake,’ Govon said, ‘and hope it does the trick… So, my fair elf, no sneakily drifting off into a trance when nobody is looking! Come along… let’s find you a nice place to sit in the bracing fresh air.’

‘Is there hope?’ I asked Ness. ‘It’s a long time to stay awake, even for an elf…’

‘I do not know, I really…’ She sighed. ‘I was joking, but if he is still slipping away this close to Valinor, I do not think anything can anchor him, not properly. Not if Govon can’t… so perhaps. But at least they are doing something, it gives them a little hope.’

I looked up to where Legolas and Govon installed themselves on the top deck, on a seat towards the prow. They sat cuddled together, looking forward into the bejewelled night and they were still there, talking together, when daylight came.

After that, they went there every night, subtly protected from interference by former members of the guard, taking turns to give them privacy. Sometimes during the day Ness or I would take charge of my son so Govon could have a break. I don’t know for sure, but I think he used to go into the below-decks café-bar and cry for a bit. He would come back complaining that the salt air burned his eyes.

I worried, too, of course; I was beyond worry, busy with the concerns of my Silvans, offering support while attempting not to cling too close to my son, but every hour Legolas was awake felt like a triumph, every moment left before me was full of dread for him.

Eight days, it took. Eight days of hope and sunshine and singing along with the sea’s new song for all except a few of us. How many of my Silvans went to Cirdan for advice, I do not know. But I do know that Nestoril and I, individually and together, spoke to many of my former subjects, both to reassure and to comfort, to promise continuing support and friendship beyond the sea.

It seemed that as well as our old lives, we had left the seasons behind. Back on the round world, it was December, rapidly approaching Yule – Christmas, as it had become. But here it felt like a warm summer day, perfect growing weather, walking weather, lazing weather, depending on one’s preference. At night, the stars… the stars were different, they were jewels, so close one could almost reach up and touch them, the moon, glorious and fatly silver, made for loving… if one could find the privacy, that is.

If one had the heart for it.

* 

The fine, fair days were long, and the nights short, and on the morning of what would prove to be the final day at sea, as Ness and I were trying to feed breakfast to Legolas and Govon, my son turned to his fëa-mate.

‘I am so tired,’ he said. ‘I need to rest, to reverie. Just for a few moments. Wake me, distract me if you need to, but we are so near, now. Surely there is nothing to fear, now?’

Govon sat up and pulled him across his lap.

‘Rest, then. Your head on my lap, let me stroke your hair while you sleep. Don’t leave me, melleth; not now, not so close.’

A few minutes, and Govon gave Legolas a shake. ‘Are you wakeful yet?’

‘Not yet, but I did walk in a green place. Listen! Do you hear? Sea gulls!’

‘I hear.’

We all heard; the wail and mew and there was an escort of seagulls whirling overhead with their bright eyes and sharp beaks and even sharper cries, and we knew we were approaching the coasts of the Undying Lands.

A sudden lurch to port as the ship changed direction Cirdan waved from the wheelhouse, and presently, Hanben made his way to where Ness and I were still sitting with Legolas and Govon on the top deck.

‘Captain Cirdan’s compliments, my king, and we’re nearing the shallows; there are deeper approach channels, and we need to find our way into one of those or else wait for the tide. Having not taken this journey before, I cannot say exactly how long, but I gather a few hours at most, and then we’ll make landfall.’


	34. An Honour-Son to be Proud of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Uinen's Gull makes landfall, and Govon earns Thranduil's approval...

‘Landfall!’ I exclaimed.

Hanben bowed his head and smiled.

‘Yes, sire. We will see trees again soon.’

The thought of trees, after what felt like so long at sea, would have been welcome wherever we were headed. But to know we would shortly be disembarking on the shores of the Undying Lands was entirely different; it was exciting and alarming in equal measure.

‘Thank you, Hanben,’ I said.

‘Shall I alert your guard, perhaps send my honour-sons to you?’

‘If you would, that will be most helpful.’

Within moments I had a little cluster of my new guard around me, Parvon at Triwathon’s side, Canadion standing to attention as much as one could in high heels, Thiriston beside him trying to look at me and still catch a glimpse of the smudge of land on the horizon.

‘Mellyn-nin, we are almost there. I would like you to spread the word amongst our Silvans; time to pack, to gather belongings together, to prepare for landfall. The Noldor of course are not in our care; I assume Cirdan and his company will speak with them, but if asked, share the news freely. Thank you, and...’

I broke off as a cry came from where I had left Govon and Legolas.

‘Your service honours us,’ I said hastily. ‘Dismissed.’

Nestoril was there before me, of course, kneeling next to Govon who had Legolas across his lap. She shook her head at me, and I knew my son had gone again, slipped out of the far side of reverie, and he was not waking.

I watched, helpless, as Ness chanted her charms, trying to connect. ‘He’s drifting, oh, I am so sorry, Govon! His fëa is no longer anchored fast to his body. But he has not faded yet, there is still hope! Take him below, hold him, cherish him, whatever you need to bring him back, make him feel something. And do not give up hope!’

Govon’s mouth compressed into a hard, tragic line; he could not speak, could only nod as he lifted Legolas in his arms as if he were no heavier than a leaf and bore him off below to the saloon.

‘Thiriston, Canadion; stand guard at the doors, ensure Govon and Legolas have privacy. Remove any who get in your way by whatever means necessary.’

‘Yes, sire.’

‘Ness?’ I asked quietly. ‘What is this? Why is no-one else suffering in this way, why only my son?’

‘Thranduil, I... I do not know, not really... perhaps too much of the sea-longing, too long with only Govon at his side...’

‘But the love between them... if that has not been enough, if that is not enough now... Ness, what can we do?’

She shook her head.

‘For Legolas? Nothing, if Govon cannot anchor him... Ai, it is so frustrating, to be so near...!’ She grabbed my hand and squeezed my fingers, tugging at me, talking almost sternly. ‘Now, come. There is nothing to be gained by assuming the worst! You fear for your son, of course you do, you love him! But you have Silvans on board who are anxious about the forthcoming landfall, who still look to you as their king; they need you. You must hold your courage, my love, just a little while longer. We are so close!’

The breath I took sounded ragged in my own ears, but I nodded and pulled my wits close about me, for there were Silvans approaching now with questions in their faces. 

Ness gave my hand a final squeeze.

‘I am going to attend to gathering our scattered belongings and put them away,’ she said. ‘I will not be far.’

‘No, indeed,’ I replied with a touch of my old acerbity. ‘One can walk from prow to stern in less than three minutes; I am not afraid of losing you.’

She smiled, delighted at my response, and trotted off, leaving me with half a dozen Silvans to congratulate and soothe, as was appropriate.

‘As you can see, landfall is not imminent, simply very close,’ I said. ‘But gather your luggage, make sure you have all you need.’

‘My king, do you know what will happen when we land?’

Unfortunately, I did not, so I was glad that Master Merenor inserted himself into the crowd, smiling as he edged his way to my side before I had quite run out of reassuring platitudes.

‘If I may, sire, Lord Cirdan has given me a briefing and so I will be delighted to answer any specific questions our friends may have.’

‘Thank you, Master Merenor.’ I lowered myself to a seat on the bench nearest to hand. ‘Please proceed.’

So Merenor spoke confidently and warmly of the welcome party that always gathered when a ship was sighted. He spoke of friends and family waiting to meet the new arrivals, of Silvans welcomed.

‘There is usually a formal group, but sometimes those who live nearest the anchorage get there first,’ he said. ‘Generally, there is a feast spread on the shore, and lives are reconnected over food and drink and merriment.’

Drink and merriment. Somehow, it did not appeal.

Once the Silvans were reassured, Merenor went to repeat his message around the ship and I took up a stance on the fore of the middle deck, looking out to the line of land growing slowly, smoothly nearer. 

Perhaps an hour passed, and with a sudden growling judder, the engines engaged. A few moments after that, Merenor was back.

‘Sire, Cirdan has heard about your son’s unfortunate illness, and is trying to get us to shore as quickly as possible. He thinks using the engines will cut the time by at least an hour.’

‘I see. Pass on my thanks, Master Merenor.’

‘Yes, my king. I must go and help Hanben now, but when there is more news, I will seek you out.’

‘Thank you.’

*

I could not bear the waiting on my own.

Descending to the main deck, I tried not to prowl as around me orders were passed amongst Cirdan’s crew. I could see Canadion outside the doors to one of the saloons, assumed Thiriston would be at the other entrance and my son and his fëa-mate somewhere inside. Merenor found me there, amidships, carefully not staring at the guarded doors.

‘My king, Cirdan says we’re making for the south jetty; it’s quieter than the general harbour, a little nearer, and more suited to our needs. Twenty minutes, perhaps.’

So long a voyage to be so suddenly almost done. I thanked him with a nod and called for Triwathon.

He was with me in a moment.

‘You called, my king?’

‘Triwathon, you will have heard that the prince has been taken ill. No doubt there will be considerable eagerness to disembark, at least amongst the Noldor; I want you and the guard to keep the way clear until my son has been taken ashore, can you do that for me?’

‘Gladly, sire; I’ll assemble the company in readiness and seek volunteers to add to our number.’

Land loomed at last. Ness came seeking me, slid her hand into mine and tugged me towards the disembarkation area of the ship. As we passed the saloon where Govon had taken Legolas, Canadion came to attention, and suddenly either side of us, all the way from the saloon to the side of the ship was lined with Silvans, warriors and civilians forming shield wall keeping clear the way. 

The engines stopped, there came a grinding of chains and Merenor and Hanben slid aside the disembarkation panels while others of the crew took ropes ashore to make fast the ship.

Behind the double row of warriors, other Silvans waited, questioning, voicing concern when they were told: your prince is ill, he leaves first, backing away in respect. The Noldor contingent tutted and tried to push through; one of them got an elbow in his throat for his pains.

‘My brother’s husband is ill,’ I heard Merlinith say over his choking protests. ‘So wait your turn like the rest of us! You should be ashamed of yourself!’

‘They’re lowering the gangway now,’ Hanben came to say. ‘If you are ready, sire...’

Canadion knocked on the saloon door and called in, and Govon came out, cradling Legolas in his arms. It was obvious my honour-son had been weeping, but he carried the shell of my son with quiet dignity, the Silvans closing after him to give them room.

Nestoril hurried over to lay her fingers on Legolas’ neck.

‘He’s still alive, Govon, you’ve not lost him yet!’

Govon nodded and gripped Legolas tighter, almost running off the ship and along the jetty to lay my son down on the nearest land. Ness and I followed, vaguely aware of other people on the shore but unable to focus on anything other than Legolas.

‘See, love, we’re here, can you feel the grass beneath you, the sweet air? We’re here, in the Undying Lands, you cannot leave me now, do not leave me alone here, I only came to be with you...’

‘Stand aside; let me through!’

A commanding voice, one I knew of old and had little cause to love.

Elrond.

‘Let me see; I can help.’ He pushed past Nestoril and I, ignoring Govon as he bent to raise Legolas’ head up, whispered into my son’s ear, breathed into his mouth.

‘That’s enough!’ Govon recovered himself, pulling Legolas out of Elrond’s arms and jumping up. 

Hastily he passed my son to me before turning back, fist already swinging, to land a perfect, determined punch at Elrond’s face. Blood spurted satisfyingly from the elegant nose and I felt like cheering, more so as Legolas shivered in my arms and took a huge breath.

‘I told you once before never to touch my fëa-mate again, you Noldo pervert!’ my honour-son yelled. ‘Now leave us alone! Push off!’

‘Govon!’ Legolas stirred again in my arms and I called my honour-son quickly. ‘Govon, I think he’s waking.’

Govon took my son from me and bore Legolas off, gently placing him down on the soft ground and chafing his hands.

‘Come, my fair elf, we’re here. I just hit Elrond and you missed it… wake up, melleth! It will not be the same here without you…’

And Legolas opened his eyes and blinked.

‘We’re here?’

‘Yes.’

‘Is that... Elrond? Is he bleeding?’

‘Yes, and yes. He… he touched you. He breathed on you! I didn’t like it so…’

‘And my work is done,’ Elrond muttered, clutching his nose. 

An elleth robed in soft lilac hues now advanced and inclined her head to me.

‘My lord, if you will entrust your son to us, we will bear him hence to our Lady Estë, who awaits him. In her care, his cure will be completed.’

I nodded.

‘Very well. Govon - go with them, if you wish.’

‘I’m glad you said that… I’ll try to send word.’

‘All will be easy,’ the elleth said. ‘This is Valinor. He will be well, and you will be reunited soon.’

Reluctant, I gestured for them to leave. Elrond seemed to be a part of the healing team, too, but walked a wary distance from my honour-son who picked Legolas up in his arms once more in spite of my son’s laughing protest, and raised his upper lip towards the former Lord of Imladris in what looked suspiciously like a snarl.

Sometimes I am so proud of Legolas for his choice of spouse.

‘Ness? Do you want to go with them?’

‘Yes, I…’ She broke off. ‘I would like to, but there’s someone coming. And I want to be with you when they arrive.’

Far in the distance a procession was making its way towards us. I could see it was led by a shimmering, beautiful creature on an elk… there was a glow to her that made me think she could not be simply an elleth, and yet I knew her.

Baralinith.

Not my queen.

Not ever my wife.

And not, I had eventually realised, my fëa-mate.

But still, my first love, the mother of my sons.

And my other two sons were with her, I saw, at the head of the train following, Iauron and Tharmeduil, Tharmeduil standing, walking unaided, waving.

Not only my sons, however; a tall and shining Maia walked beside Baralinith’s elk, what looked like a crowd of elves following behind; the welcome party, I assumed.

Even progressing as eagerly as they were, it looked as if they would take some while yet to reach us. I felt Nestoril squeeze my fingers, and saw concern in her soft grey eyes.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked.

‘Of course. You?’

‘I’m sure it will be fine.’

That hadn’t been what I’d asked.


	35. Hugging

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which there are several reunions and much hugging...

We watched for a moment or two more, and I lifted my hand to wave back to Iauron and Tharmeduil. Then Ness gave my arm a squeeze.

‘Well, Lady Baralinith is not riding towards us with arrow nocked and reproaches colouring the air,’ she said. ‘We should, perhaps, take that as a good sign...’

‘In any case, I am sure I will get the blame. If there is any blame to be shared, that is...’

Ness managed a laugh and we looked back towards the ‘Uinen’s Gull’.

The Noldo contingent had preceded the Silvans off the vessel, more from my peoples’ reticence than from any real pushing and shoving. Finally a few Silvans began slowly to approach the gangplank, as if they could not quite believe we had landed, that the Valar were not going to turn up and order them back aboard. Parvon and Triwathon, amongst the first to disembark, waited on the jetty, Parvon issuing reassurances to the Silvans hesitating near the gangway.

‘As you can see, we are here, we are unharmed, we are Silvan! There is Healer Ness, she is fine, and Commander Govon, he was welcomed, even after he hit Elrond! Come, it is really a very nice place, look!’

Suddenly his voice was drowned out as a stentorian shout went up from along the coast to the right.  
There, standing atop a sand dune, golden hair waving dramatically in the breeze, was an ellon I remembered of old; Glorfindel of Gondolin, poised magnificently in the sun.

Everyone turned to stare at the former Lord of the House of the Golden Flower who was now bellowing one name at the top of his voice, yelling it over and over, starting to jump up and down in his excitement.

'Triwathon!' he trumpeted, 'Triwathon!'

I glanced towards Parvon and saw a flicker of resignation cross his face, even as Triwathon took his hand for a brief moment, stoking his thumb across the backs of Parvon's fingers in a gesture of affection more telling than any effusive embrace could be.

'You know I love you.' I heard him say.

'Yes, I do. Go, then, be greeted by the Balrog-slayer! Let him get it out of his system, I suppose we owe him that, at least.'

'You are gracious, always. Thank you.'

'Triwathon! Is that you, Honey-beer?'

Triwathon grinned, loping towards the golden splendour awaiting him, and I was not the only one whose eyes followed, keen to witness the reunion of these erstwhile lovers with more than polite interest...

'Hir-nin, Iphant-nin!'

Glorfindel opened his arms wide and ran to close the last of the distance between them. He swung Triwathon around in a huge, whirling hug, burying his face in the Silvan's hair, his voice growing muffled and indistinct, but we could all hear Triwathon laughing and exclaiming.

'Ai, but it is good to see you! You look amazing, my dear iphant!'

The Balrog-slayer lifted his head up to look into Triwathon's eyes and as he started to release his hold and back away, Glorfindel moved in again, his mouth shaped for a kiss.

I heard Parvon gasp, saw Triwathon's hands come to rest on Glorfindel's arms, fingers spread to push him away, his head moving back out of reach, but then a slow, lazy drawl, beautifully modulated to carry clearly and conveying tolerant amusement interrupted the awkward drama of the moment.

'No tongues, dearest, you promised, remember?'

Glorfindel broke away as if scalded, Triwathon glanced around to make eye-contact with Parvon with a relieved smile. 

The Balrog-slayer grinned, abashed, and threw his arm around Triwathon's shoulders as the owner of the perfectly-timed voice sauntered up. 

The new arrival’s hair fell in a smooth sheen to below his hips and was a lustrous shining black. His eyes sparkled and glinted and he was one of the fairest beings, I think, that ever I had seen. Dressed in robes that shimmered and flowed as if the silks and satin were liquid, he looked completely self-possessed, coming to an elegant halt and bowing first to Parvon.

'Please forgive my husband,' he said clearly. 'But ever since they said there was a ship on the way, it has been, 'do you think Triwathon’s coming this time? When will they be here?' It's been Triwathon this and Triwathon that until I wished to the high heavens he'd taken up with one who owned an easier name! I am Ecthelion, spouse of that old war horse over there.'

'Parvon, advisor to the king and married to Triwathon. I knew this day would come, when my husband and his old friend would be reunited.'

'As did I. But the knowing and the seeing... Well, I hope we two can be friends because of our spouses and not only in spite of them... you will have noted, of course, that it was my terrible lover who had no restraint...’ He raised his voice once more, grinning, and Glorfindel came over, dragging Triwathon with him.

'Ecthelion, look! It's Triwathon!'

'I thought it must be, otherwise I wouldn’t have let you take such liberties with him!’ Ecthelion inclined his head to Triwathon. 'You're the one who saved him from the world, at last, and from himself. You restored him and I have ample cause to be grateful to you.'

'My lord Ecthelion.' Triwathon bowed. 'Thank you for your gracious words. It was, forgive me, my pleasure.' The Silvan grinned. 'You have met my fëa-mate, I see. Glorfindel, you remember Parvon, who waited for me until I'd got you out of my head?'

'I do. And forgive me, Master Parvon, if I was a little too enthusiastic... but I’ve missed him so very much! Truly, I'm very happy for you both.' 

Glorfindel let go of Triwathon, finally, and went to stand with Ecthelion. 

‘Thank you,’ he said, looking up at his friend. ‘I’m sorry if I worried you; I just needed to remember it, all of it. By hugging.’

Ecthelion smiled down – and that was a surprise in itself, that there was someone taller than Glorfindel – and draped an arm around the Balrog-slayer’s neck. 

‘Good, fine, very well... but if you attempt to do the hugging with the lips again on an ellon not myself, it will be the Námo Special for you, beloved! Now, Triwathon and Parvon did not arrive alone... who else is there for us to welcome – properly, formally, welcome, that is? No. More. Hugging. With. Your. Mouth...’

Each word was emphasised with a small kiss on Glorfindel’s nose and when Ecthelion finished he grinned up at the Lord of the Fountains, widening his eyes in mock-surprise

‘Are there others?’ he asked. ‘And so there are! Forgive me, I was distracted... well, here’s my friend Nestoril, a healer, and that’s Thranduil the Elvenking...’

Ecthelion drew in a sharp breath and looked at Glorfindel with astonishment.

‘There is royalty present, and you rush for a cuddle without bowing first? Really, ‘Fin, what has become of your manners?’ He looked back at us, inclining his head and spreading his arms in formal greeting. ‘My lord king, your pardon, I beg... be welcome amongst us, you and your family and your court and warriors... if I may be of service...’

‘We are at something of a loss, Lord Ecthelion, as to procedure...’

‘Your majesty, as you can see, the official welcoming party is on its way led by that magnificent elk... there was a discussion, I think, as to how long it would take your vessel to make landfall... and by rights, we should have waited, we should have arrived with them... except that my Glorfindel, of course, could not wait another minute... so much for the legendary patience of the elves... but, see, the company is not far away. The general procedure, once everyone has disembarked, is usually Welcome to Valinor, and there is a feast on the nearest available piece of ground... I would suggest, just over this rise is a fine spot for a picnic.’

‘I see.’ I looked about for assistance. Govon having gone with Legolas, Triwathon busy reassuring Parvon (and Parvon needing his reassurance, I would not interrupt) I turned to beckon Thiriston forward. ‘Would you mind passing the word, Thiriston?’

‘Not at all, my king.’

‘Thiriston?’ Glorfindel queried with a grin. ‘There’s a name I remember! Well met! Where’s Canadion...?’ 

He broke off to stare as Canadion sashayed forward with a friendly wave; he’d dressed in his best for leaving the ship, in the red-soled shoes and a tight dark green skirt suit.

‘Just here,’ he said. ‘But I must go and help round up the stragglers, and their luggage.’

‘I... interesting choice of clothing,’ Glorfindel said. ‘We’ve had arrivals turn up in modern garments all the time, of course, but usually the ellyn wear the skirts...’

Everyone realising all at once that it was safe, there was a sudden eagerness for the shore, Silvans disembarking, spilling out onto the jetty, making their way to the land, and looking about them, stroking the grass, exclaiming about the colours, the air, the beauty of the light. Ness put her hand in mine and we walked a little way along the path from the dock and...

Oh.

The welcome party was upon us.

The magnificent elk came to a stop a short distance away and the gleaming, shining figure whom I recognised with both love and dread slid from its back and flew towards us, and even as I debated whether to release my wife and put myself in front of her, or to draw closer to her, the rider launched herself at Nestoril in a delighted babble.

‘Congratulations, oh I am so happy for you, my dear friend! I knew, when I told you to take care of him, that you would, if he would let you, for I was right, was I not? You loved him all along only never said and...’

‘Baralinith?’ I whispered, and my former consort released Nestoril and it was my turn to be hugged, although with less affection than my wife had been...

‘Indeed, Thranduil, it is I.’

‘Except... it is not... is it? You are not as I remembered, I am sure I would not have forgotten the glowing skin and incandescent eyes...’

She laughed as she linked arms with me, and with Ness, and led us towards the rest of the group.

‘Here he is! Thranduil the Elvenking of Eryn Lasgalen, Greenwood the Great, and my first love, the father of my children... the boys will be along presently, Thranduil, I wanted to have you and Ness to myself a moment first... but I want you to meet Lauretindor again... You remember? In the woods, Urulosson, and Lauretindor and Oromë...’

‘Yes, I remember... you thought I was trespassing and my forfeit was to help you for the day, and the hunt disturbed us...’

‘And Lauretindor soothed Urulosson, and Oromë said his friend liked me but I’d better stay with you first... did you not ever wonder...?’

‘What business of his it might be? Oh, frequently. But we had enough opposition without adding to matters...’

‘You see, I am Maia... my mother lived in the forests, caring for the elk, and my father found her and loved her. Three times they ignored the call of Oromë, and, at the last, were told stay, and diminish, or go and protect the place they loved. And so they decided; my mother stayed, my father left, and my light was hidden. I did not know and so, when I had my troubles, the light began to burn in me again as I tried to protect us... but now, all is well, I am whole. I am loved, you are loved, and all has come to good.’

She took my hand and placed it into Nestoril’s and I saw her old humour shine through the light in her eyes.

‘Can you imagine the look on your Adar’s face when he realised he was right, we really were not a well-matched pair, except not for the reasons he believed...? I must confess I did rather enjoy his shock...’

‘You have seen my father? Where is he, did he come with you...?’

‘Oh, Thranduil... Yes, I have seen him... we met in Námo’s care, in the Halls of Mandos, long ago. He is not with the welcome party, I am afraid.’ Baralinith took a breath and the light in her seemed to dim, to settle just a little. ‘So, what some people like to do, is renew their vows here, in their new home. Think about it; you might have fun, marrying your Ness again. But now, take your ease, eat and drink, and you will find old friends coming to meet you all through the rest of the day and the night. And by the time you are tired, there will be pavilions spread for you tonight, while you decide where you wish to go and with whom you wish to dwell.’

The rest of Baralinith’s train had been busy while we talked, unloading of food and spreading blankets to sit on, the sudden activity giving the newly-arrived and uncertain Silvans reassurance and purpose. Others from the party now came forward, calling out the names of our fellow travellers. My Silvans found friends coming up, family, and from every side came joyful cries of welcome and reunion.

Although most of my Silvans had now decided Valinor was safe, Thiriston and Canadion were still busy organising the ship, encouraging the last elves off, and bringing luggage onto the jetty. I wasn’t sure why, at first, they were so determined not come and join in the festivities, but Ness squeezed my hand lightly.

‘Would you know Thiriston’s parents, if you saw them?’ she asked, lowering herself to sit on the salty grass.

‘To my shame, I would not... they died long before my father did, and until I took the crown, I mostly knew palace officials, warriors... elk tamers...’

She smiled. ‘Well, there is a little cluster of elves over there who seem to be looking for the same person... or couple, perhaps... and... oh, look, look! There is Arveldir coming over, and Erestor with him...!’

She scrambled to her feet and set off, and I followed, in time to see her try to hug both elves at once.

‘Oh, my dear friends! How lovely to find you again! Are you well, are you happy?’

My former advisor and his spouse certainly looked as if the air of Valinor agreed with them; they had a calm air about them and had eschewed the formal robes of yore for simple leggings and tunics.

Whatever answers they may have had for Nestoril were lost as they saw me and bowed. I shook my head.

‘I feel as if I am a restraint on everyone! Arveldir, Erestor, how are you both? I hope the blackberries grow well enough here to please you?’

‘The strawberries, too, are excellent in season,’ Arveldir said, coming forward and allowing me to shake his hand. ‘In fact, we have hot-houses and so are assured of soft fruit for many months of the year... so you are married, at last, Nestoril? Congratulations. Sire, if you need any assistance settling in, we would be pleased to help.’

‘Most kind. Erestor, you are looking well. Soft fruit obviously agrees with you.’

‘Indeed, it is rich in vitamins and good for the skin besides, sire. Welcome to the Undying Lands.’

‘Oh, look, look! Over there, Thranduil! It’s your other boys!’

‘Indeed. And Feril... Ness?’

‘It is fine, really... you go and talk to your boys, Thranduil, I’ll find Seamus...’

Released from whatever task Baralinith had set them to, my sons now made their way towards me. Tharmeduil looked wonderful, tall and strong, any traces of his old illness eradicated, a shimmer to him that I guessed was his mother’s Maia blood peeking out. Iauron looked, if anything, shy. 

Tharmeduil stood back, smiling, pushing his older brother forward.

‘Go on, oldest first!’

‘Adar, I... Naneth has been telling me, perhaps I wasn’t the best of sons...’

For a moment, I had no words. Indeed, I had no breath... but here were my sons, healed, whole, and if they were well, then surely Legolas would be...? 

I needed to speak; Iauron was looking more and more hangdog by the second, misinterpreting my silence, and a flood of sudden memory came to me.

‘Not the best of sons?’ I repeated. ‘Indeed, I remember saying I expected you would disappoint me one day. For that is the way of things; sons disappoint their fathers... neglecting your brother’s training, the incidents in the bawdy houses... a certain human female and the disappointed hopes of Imladris to name but a few incidents in your colourful history...’

‘Yes, Ada, I... can see why I was a disappointment to you...’

He looked down at the rich, green grass at his feet and scuffled a foot, just as he had as an elfling, as a young ellon, a grown-up ellon old enough to know better and I thought my heart would break with joy...

‘You were not,’ I told him. ‘In spite of all, I was proud of you. At the end, your thought was of someone else; you saved Govon from the dragon-breath.’

‘I did? That’s good, where is he, where’s Legolas?’

‘Sent off to the healers, Govon with him. Your brother was close to fading, but they tell me he will be well now... You are married, Tharmeduil, I think? Congratulations to you, and to Feril, also... where is she?’

‘Waiting, with some other of Ness’ healer friends... was she very sad, when she got home?’ Tharmeduil asked.

‘Well, perhaps at first. But she has since married me, so I think it’s fair to say she recovered from her disappointment. Iauron, come, there is someone you must meet; he came on the ship with us, saved us from disaster, in fact...’

‘Who?’

‘Ness is bringing him.’

Tugging Seamus by his arm, Nestoril approached. We heard her talking.

‘No, not him, I’m afraid... the other one... well, you see, he was a hero, eventually, but a bit of a scamp first... Iauron... there is no easy way to say this, and enough time has been wasted... This is Flora’s child. Delivered in the forest by Thiriston and Canadion, no less – is there ever an end to the service from those two? He chose elvenkind, and he has been so helpful, he saved us from almost certain death, although we didn’t know who he was until the night we sailed...'

Iauron stepped forward, his eyes wondering, a smile starting, and I thought I had never seen my eldest son look so sincerely glad, so surprised...

‘You are my son, my child? Ai, you have the look of her, your mother...’ 

Iauron reached out, but Seamus stepped back.

‘I... so long, I have thought about this moment. I... so much to say, so many questions! I thought I would... well, I thought I should not... my mother talked of you often, why did you abandon her...?’

Iauron shrugged.

‘Because I was stupid, and shallow, and didn’t think. And... well, we were going to take care of Flora... did this not happen...? But... I had an accident with a dragon and I did not wake up until I got here...’

Typical Iauron, using only that of the truth that would make him sound better.

‘That much is fact,’ I said. ‘And, Iauron, we did all Flora would permit us to. But she had her pride, and I would not hurt her feelings. I wanted... I would have moved her into the palace, if she would, but perhaps it was best that she stay amongst her family. So. This is Belegornor, as his mother named him...’

‘What? That is...’

I shrugged. 

‘We call him Seamus; I will leave you to get to know each other, a little. Seamus, when you are done, feel free to seek us... or go where pleases you. But I would like it, if we were near each other.’

‘Thank you, sire – Daeradar.’

‘Seamus?’ Iauron queried

‘Long story,’ Seamus – Belegornor – said. ‘It’s how I was introduced to your father...’

Ness patted my arm. 

‘I think I can see Maereth over there; she looks like she’s desperately trying not to wave, in case she’s intruding, but at the same time...’

‘I remember Maereth fondly, always an air of uncertainty, unless she was dealing with horrific injuries, and then, as bossy as anything!’ I said. ‘If you would like to say hello...’

‘Will you be all right?’ she asked. ‘There’s a lot happening; so much to take in...’

‘You go,’ I said. ‘Bear them all my greetings, and tell Healer Mae I am no longer her king, she need not fear me. I will walk with Tharmeduil for a time.’

Ness reached up to kiss my cheek before setting off towards Maereth. I beckoned Tharmeduil.

‘Come with me, ion-nin,’ I said. ‘I have our luggage to collect. But first, how about a hug for your old Ada?’

‘Oh, you do hugging now, do you?’ Tharmeduil did, indeed, hug me, and it felt wonderful to have my second son vibrant and alive and moving freely, healed and whole and happy. ‘Ai, I have missed you, Ada...’

We headed for the ship, talking lightly and freely, and I found my heart laughing, freed from worry about Legolas now, about Baralinith – and to say her name again, to see her so shining and happy...

‘Adar... is that...?’

‘Canadion in a skirt. Yes. He likes the shoes.’


	36. Mother and Child Reunion...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which more families are reunited...

Canadion caught sight of us and waved excitedly.

‘My prince!’ he called. ‘You are well, at last!’

Tharmeduil laughed. 

‘I am indeed, and you? You look stunning!’

‘Thank you, I will tell my husband Thiriston you said so...’

‘So you did it, you got married...? I am glad; for in my drawings, I sometimes saw Thiriston with a person in just such shoes and skirts... now I understand!’

A moment later and Thiriston appeared behind Canadion, lugging a couple of cases. He called a greeting to the prince, but then broke off, dropping the cases abruptly and giving an incoherent shout as he stared off beyond us, across the shore to wave at someone in the little group of elves Nestoril had pointed out to me earlier. 

Following Thiriston’s gaze, I saw an ellon begin running towards the ship, shouting. As he approached, I could hear he was calling ‘Adar, Adar, Adar,’ in time with his steps.

‘Lhostor!’ the big elf yelled back. ‘Penneth, it’s Lhostor!’

Canadion abandoned the bags he was moving, stared, took a moment to slip out of his impossible heels, and ran for the bank where the ellon – Lhostor, the orphan they had adopted so long ago – was waving and calling, and pressing his hands to his mouth. 

Thiriston made landfall first, and grabbed at the ellon, who hugged him back with delighted sounds. I felt my throat grow hard at the sight of their simple joy; I remembered how there had been doubts when Thiriston and Canadion had wanted to adopt, not least because Lhostor had been damaged right down to his fëa in the events that killed his parents, but in the finish, all had been proved wrong as the youngling had blossomed and regained his courage in the odd little family they had become.

Now Thiriston backed away, grinning, to look at his son, and Lhostor looked beyond to where Canadion was now hurrying over.

‘Ada? Is that...? Adar, is that my Ada?’

‘That’s your Ada,’ Thiriston said with a smile and a glance, and Lhostor laughed and ran to greet Canadion.

‘Ada, my Ada!’

‘Your silly Ada, still. Lhostor, oh, ion-nin!’

And they hugged and kissed and Lhostor laughed again.

‘You know, I always wished I could call you Nana. You were so very like the other nanas I knew, or the ones I heard about in the stories.’

‘Well, if you wanted to, I would not have minded;. It is just words, penneth, just as these are only clothes; I am still your silly Ada, but I could be your silly Nana too, if you wanted.’ 

Thiriston came up to hug his son and his husband, and Lhostor began to lead them off, laughing.

‘Ah, we are not done yet, ion-nin! We are helping get the luggage off the boat and – and there is still someone else on board you will be pleased to see...’

‘Commander Canadion,’ I said loudly, giving my former secretary a field promotion just for the look of pride in Lhostor’s eyes. ‘You and Commander Thiriston may consider your work done for now. Collect your nice shoes, Canadion, tell the engineer’s mate to come ashore, if he can, and then stand down. I understand there will be a welcoming feast, as soon as somebody gets organised...’

Canadion smiled – no, he beamed and nodded.

‘Yes, my king, for I think there are people over there who want to meet Thiriston, and I will indeed fetch the engineer’s mate, because he will want to see Lhostor...’

He hastened back on board, while Lhostor, babbling about Daerada and Daernana and Daernaneth and Daeradar, dragged Thiriston off to the little group of people who had come up after Lhostor.

Thiriston was not generally given to shows of emotion, or surprise, so to see him stop dead in his tracks and shake his head, disbelieving, to see that fierce face crumble...

The two ellith in the party stepped forward at the same moment. One, with somewhat wild hair went to step back; the other said, ‘nonsense, he knew you latest!’ and pushed her forwards, waiting while she leapt at the big elf and swamped him in a hug.

‘There!’ I heard her say. ‘There is a welcome from your Nana Fasdes, and your Naneth is here, too, your Adar and your Ada Cadudor...’ and then Thiriston was at the centre of a four-parent hug as both his foster-parents and his birth parents greeted him.

Lhostor stood back, his face showing a mingling of emotion, happiness for his Thiriston-Adar and a renewal of loss as he was left standing alone.

Not for long; Canadion slid an arm around him.

‘Thank you for bringing them to him,’ he said. ‘If it was me, I’d have wanted him all to myself for ages. I know when I saw my Ada again after centuries apart, I could hardly bear to let him out of my sight! And that was on my honeymoon!’

Lhostor gave a wet little laugh and turned in for a hug. Canadion cuddled him, stroked his hair.

‘Ai, you look wonderful, ion-nin. Now, here is Merenor Daerada, and he has missed you too!’

‘Lhostor!’ Merenor smiled and opened his arms, joining with his son and grandson in a hug. ‘Well, this is so lovely! And your honour-Daerada Hanben has come home, too, but he is busy working while I am allowed to come and hug you, my dear. But this is a wonderful way to make landfall!’

‘Yes, Daerada Merenor, and Ada Canadion, guess who is coming too? Uncle Baudh is away in the forests, but we will send word, still my uncle Melion is here, and Caraphindir, and everyone, and Bronwenith, and Emlissel, except she is at home with our elflings and, sorry, my first-parents...’

‘What? Elflings? Lhostor, you have been busy!’

‘Yes, and do you know, Emlissel’s other Nana and Naneth, where they might be? Did you bring them?’

‘We did indeed,’ Canadion said. ‘But I do not know where they went... shall we go and look for them? I want to hear all about your elflings, ion. And your birth-parents, I am sure they were happy to see you...?’

*

‘Everywhere reunions!’ a familiar female voice said from behind me, and I turned with a gasp and a smile in my heart to greet my own mother. ‘Thranduil, my son, how are you?’

She gave me a genteel, restrained hug that was no less loving for its dignity, and suddenly, there were no words; I understood exactly the emotion that had overwhelmed Thiriston, the joy on Lhostor’s face, and I felt as if I were an elfling again, here was my Nana, as lovely and smiling and flaxen-haired as I remembered and I was clinging, suddenly, in a most unkingly manner, and she was patting at my shoulders and shushing me as she had done when I was very small, everyone, everything else forgotten in the moment of connection.

Eventually, I was able to lift my head from her shoulder and she smiled, stroked my hair back from my face, dabbed at me with the corner of her shawl.

‘Welcome to Valinor, penneth,’ she said. ‘Goodness, so many old friends as you have brought with you! I passed Nestoril on the way... I understand you and she are married?’

‘Indeed,’ I said. ‘But perhaps it was late coming...’

‘I am truly glad for you. Not that I was not, am not, fond of Baralinith, but she was ever destined for higher things...’

‘Yes, I understand now. She mentioned Father, but she did not say much... where is he?’

My mother smiled sadly.

‘Still in the Halls of Mandos.’

‘After all this time?’

‘Yes, indeed. His penance was up long ago as far as the Lord of the Halls was concerned, but you know Oropher, he never could forgive himself anything... Ah, look, the feast is spread... shall we...?’

We made our way to the place reserved for us and sat, my sons with us, Iauron bringing Seamus to join our party, Nestoril coming up with Feril; it looked as if both were smiling, after tears, but that was the story on so many faces, including my own, that no-one commented. Tharmeduil patted the ground next to him, and Feril sat with a smile.

I did not know what I ate, or drank, or who I greeted, but there was a slow succession of comings-together and movings-away as little groups formed and reformed, their components changing, their tone remaining the same, happy and joyous. 

Not all was delight, however. Araspen, Merlinith’s spouse looked in vain for her mother, although there were plenty of Merlinith’s older kin who were happy to welcome her. And Parvon could not help looking occasionally worried as Glorfindel laughed and shook out his golden hair and smiled with all his eyes at Triwathon.

Darkness fell like the drawing of a velvet curtain and the stars sprang out. A burst of song from the Noldo contingent heralded the night. At my side, Nestoril rested her head against my shoulder.

‘I am sure I should want to stay up all night singing the beauty of the skies,’ she said. ‘And indeed, they are very beautiful, the stars back in their right places, and pure and sparkling like gemstones in the sky. But mostly I want to walk with you, in the softness and quiet of our new home.’

‘Small chance of that with the Noldor serenading the stars...’

She laughed and pulled me to my feet.

‘A walk with a song around us, then. Come, there are trees over there, and you have not yet expressed your wish to climb in them.’

‘The Noldor would sneer at my Silvans, look at their king, climbing in trees like an elfling!’ I slid my arm around her shoulders. ‘But we should at least go and look at the woods.’ 

Across from us, Triwathon got to his feet.

‘If you will excuse us, Glorfindel, Ecthelion, Parvon and I must speak with our king.’

‘Of course, mellon-nin! Where are you lodging tonight? We have plenty of room, do we not, Ecthelion?’

‘We are grateful,’ Triwathon said swiftly. ‘But I am the king’s Commander of the Guard and Parvon his Chief Advisor. We must stay within call.’

Nestoril and I continued on a little way so that when Triwathon and Parvon caught us up we would be well out of earshot.

‘Triwathon, I no longer consider myself your king, you know,’ I said softly when they joined us under the spreading leaves of the trees. ‘This is a new world for all of us. Where will you lodge tonight?’

‘I have no idea; I was hoping that the promised pavilions would have materialised by now.’

‘Oddly enough, so were we,’ Nestoril said with a smile. ‘Of course, there is plenty of room at Glorfindel’s...’

‘Oh, do not, I must not laugh at my dear friend’s hospitality,’ Triwathon said. ‘And I know he is simply being kind, and it is his way to be exuberant and... and enthusiastic, but it is almost as if the expression ‘married to Parvon’ is beyond his comprehension!’

Parvon looked at his fëa-mate with grateful eyes.

‘I think Lord Ecthelion is quite as proprietorial of his iphant as I am of you, my dear, beautiful shadow,’ he said. ‘But you gladden my heart.’

‘Allow Parvon and me to enquire, my king, as to when these pavilions will be ready; we will return as soon as we have news.’

Once they were gone I leapt for a low branch, unable to resist the lure of the trees, and settled with my back to the trunk, reaching down a hand to pull Ness up to lean in against me.

‘Wild wood-elf,’ she said.

‘Slivan witch,’ I murmured, pressing my lips to her hair. ‘Maybe we should just stay here all night?’

‘Maybe. But it is rather a public place for a married couple to sleep... especially so newly married a couple as we...

*

Parvon and Triwathon returned with news of a proper encampment, already set up and just beyond the field, shielded by a rise of land. We returned to bid our friends and family good night, and retired to our assigned lodgings, Parvon and Triwathon installing themselves in a nearby tent. Canadion and Triwathon, on their way to a shelter of their own, called out goodnights to us as they passed.

The pavilion was spacious, our luggage – including the bicycle – had been brought for us, and there were seats, and wine and fruit, a soft, wide mattress spread and covered with good linens, and we undressed and lay down gratefully in each other’s arms. Ness stretched and relaxed across my chest and I rested my hand on her glorious hair.

‘We ought to sleep, but there is too much to talk about,’ I said. ‘So many people newly-met, so many still looked-for... to see Tharmeduil and Iauron healed, to know Baralinith is not upset... and Legolas...’

‘Yet you know Legolas will be well; he is with Govon, he is here, he is awake,’ my wife said softly. ‘He will not fade, not now.’

‘I know, Ness,’ I said. ‘It is only that, of all the things I expected, it wasn’t this. I thought he would be safe, once we hit the Straight Road, and instead...’

She propped herself up on one elbow to look down at me in the darkness.

‘I was talking to Feril...’ she began. ‘And I do not know it for certain, but I think...’

‘Go on?’

‘She says that Tharmeduil had inherited his mother’s prescience, that her Maia powers, in him, were too much and overwhelmed him; once here, once it was recognised, it was easy to release him from his paralysis...’

‘I see... but I do not see...’

‘Legolas. You know how close to the forest he was, how keenly he felt his connection to it... and how deeply he felt the sea-longing, for that matter, more so than most of us; what if that was his Maian heritage manifesting, not in prescience but in empathy with the land...? What if that was why he suffered so; the more the world changed, the harder it was for his Maia self to cope with it?’

‘Do you really think so?’

She sighed. ‘Mostly, I’m guessing. But what I do think is that he will be fine now he’s here. They took him to Lady Este, Thranduil; of course he will be fine! Now, kiss me, and go to sleep; I have a feeling there will be a busy day ahead tomorrow.’


	37. Inner Circle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Baralinith has a suggestion to put to Thranduil...

Considering the excitement and anxiety of the day a decent episode of reverie was not what I expected, but something about the air, the sense of being home and amongst my family again, perhaps, soothed me so that I found myself waking to the soft sounds of Nestoril moving around in the pavilion.

‘I’ve laid out your clothes for you, just this once,’ she said. ‘Today you’re going to make an entrance.’

‘Really?’ I asked, sitting up and looking at the garments spread. The leather coat and trousers Nestoril had gifted me were to be teamed with a silken shirt in a dark grey hue, and the grey suede ankle boots I favoured were set ready. ‘It is Valinor, it is warm outside – very warm, do you really think...?’

‘Yes, yes, I do,’ she said firmly. ‘You are a king, still, in the eyes of your Silvans; you may have misplaced your armour, and your crown, and your swords, my dear, but you will never mislay your regal air, and these are just the things to show you off at your best. Of course,’ she added, turning away with a smile in her voice, ‘I would like to think it would also show Lady Baralinith just what she’s been missing...’

‘Proprietorial, Ness? You?’

‘Only when there is someone to be proprietorial about. Now, hasten! I wish to break my fast, and I wish to do so with my husband at my side!’

Ness’ little flash of possessiveness made me smile, although I had not expected it. However, it was not the only unexpected event of the morning; the sight that greeted us in the bright morning after we had left our pavilion.... well, it was more than simply surprising...

Beyond the encampment, the plain where we had sat for the welcome feast was now a field full of faces, hundreds of them, Silvans all.

‘You knew! I exclaimed, turning to my wife and then back to stare at the waiting elves.

‘I poked my nose out of the tent to for a breath of air, yes,’ she admitted. ‘But more have arrived in the last ten minutes.’

Parvon and Arveldir came up. Arveldir bowed.

‘They arrived through the night, sire, to welcome the ship. To welcome you. But we have been sent to say...’

Whatever it was went unsaid as the crowd spotted us, and as one the elves dropped in obeisance. While a part of me wanted to tell them I was no longer their king, that they were being foolish and old-fashioned, the greater part of me saw how long they had been without a ruler of their own, how much they needed this.

I stepped forward and spread my hands in greeting.

‘My Silvans,’ I said, ‘you honour me. Rise, and come to me, let me greet you.’

It was perhaps foolish; I was more than an hour amongst them, those I remembered from the old days, those who had sailed, those whose names I had heard spoken on the Night of the Names, but finally Parvon and Arveldir extracted me and fulfilled their original task of taking me and Ness to breakfast on board the ship.

Crossing the jetty, Ness squeezed my hand and pointed at the tideline.

‘Thranduil, look! They really are jewelled strands! We did not notice before, in all the excitement.’

In the sand, glinting and glittering like illuminated flowers, brightly coloured gemstones winked and spat fire in the early sunlight.

‘Indeed; how lovely! Well, there was rather a lot going on.’

‘Sire, while we have no wish to hurry you, the rest of your inner circle has been assembled for some time,’ Arveldir said gently. ‘If you could defer your jewelled strands for an hour or so...?’

‘Yes, I suppose I have waited this long to see them, a small delay will not harm.’

From the saloon several tables had been brought and pushed together, chairs around them, 

Already seated were Baralinith and her Maian spouse, my two eldest sons with them. Erestor and Triwathon were there, empty spaces next to both of them. Cirdan was standing near at hand, waiting, it seemed, for us to arrive. Merenor and Hanben, too, were present, leaning talking to Canadion and Thiriston, standing at the rail looking out to sea.

I pulled a chair back for Nestoril and slid into place next to her as Cirdan beckoned attendants forward with food.

‘Cirdan will join us presently,’ Baralinith said. ‘As will others of your inner circle.’

‘Yes, Arveldir mentioned that I have an inner circle,’ I said. ‘Although why I need one...?’

‘To make up for not having a court, of course,’ Baralinith said. ‘I want to put a suggestion to you.... Come, mellyn-nin,’ she said, waving Canadion and Thiriston arrived across, Canadion dressed in a cream blouse and a dark red skirt that went beautifully with his maroon high heeled boots. ‘Join us for breakfast; I want to know, penneth, is it easy to get garments like those in the world you left behind?’

‘Indeed, Lady Queen, there are some wonderful shops...’

‘Oh, how I wish...! Come, Cirdan, do sit, we are famished... I think we should start eating, do not you?’

‘I do not suppose there is news of Legolas, perchance?’ I asked, trying not to sound anxious. ‘I am not even certain where he has gone, and although he was awake when he left us... I have been anxious...’

‘Of course you have,’ Baralinith said. ‘I went myself, in the night...’

‘He is not far, then?’ I asked. ‘May I go to him?’

‘Well... it is more that my steed is swifter than any we knew in the Greenwood, Thranduil. I think it is fair to say, no, it is far. But that matters little, in this case. The healers say he simply needs sleep, proper sleep – and our honour-son, too, was near exhaustion with worry and anxiety. I do like him, you know, I am so glad you decided not to be stuffy about Legolas falling for an ellon...’

‘I will confess I was not overjoyed in the first instance,’ I admitted. ‘But it did not take me long to see their attachment was sincere. They have kept each other safe through long and difficult years, if I did not honour Govon sufficiently before I saw what he had done for our son, I certainly do now...’

‘You did,’ Ness patted my arm and turning to Baralinith with an explanation. ‘I think you started to change your mind about him when he beat you in that fight, warrior paint and all...’

‘It was a draw,’ I reminded her.

‘Allegedly; I was watching, and a very fine sight it was, too... Our dear king has huge lapses of memory,’ she said to the table at large, ‘but in all the years I knew him, which he has since forgot, he was ever glad Govon and Legolas were together, for both their sakes.’

‘I must confess, I do wonder what my father would have said...’

‘On which topic, tomorrow is the Night of the Names,’ Baralinith said presently. ‘That is, if you’ve been keeping track...’

‘We knew it was soon,’ I said. ‘And I have something for you.’

I brought out her starlight gemstone and she laughed, but I saw her eyes glitter as she took it.

‘All the memories here, all the love rising from this jewel... Oh, Thranduil...!’

‘It kept me anchored, this gemstone. It brought such comfort over the long years.’

‘Well. There is no need now, for many of our Silvan friends, to worry about names. But what I was going to say... there is one name... that of your father. Now, I know, he is not a Silvan. But I also know that when his time of penance was over – and it is now very long over – he simply refused to leave the Halls of Mandos. And Námo does grumble about him cluttering up the library...’

Triwathon tried to hide a laugh.

‘Ah, someone knows our good Doomsman, I see. Well, I know, of course that you adopted the tradition of using my name to launch the commemorations for the Night of the Names – I heard you, and I was honoured and touched every year you remembered me...’

She paused to make sure she had our attention.

‘So tomorrow night, for the First Name, I want you all to say his name, your father’s, Perhaps if he hears all his Silvans, all his family honouring him, remembering him with love and respect, he might listen, he might come back...’

I nodded. ‘My mother misses him. Of course we will honour my father at the Night of the Names. I had been hoping to see him again... expecting to see him, really.’

At my side Nestoril stirred as Baralinith leaned forward and spread her hands.

‘I have ways, of course, of passing the word, of letting all the Silvans know the plan, there are advantages to being Maia.... Many wood-elves have taken up residence in our lord Oromë’s forests, they have not come to greet you yet as it is not a short journey, for elves. We will tell them to call on your father as the First Name, and with their voices, added to those of your newly arrived Silvans, and those who have come to greet you, I hope we can make enough noise and generate love enough that it will be loud enough to reach even him... what do you think, my dear friend?’ 

‘Yes,’ I said, ‘one last Night of the Names, and all of us naming my father, all giving him honour and, since he seems to need it, the forgiveness he denies himself. But is it far to the Halls of Mandos? Can it be done?’

‘We do not all need to be at the gates,’ Baralinith said. ‘A welcome party only, you and those close to you, perhaps. I can provide steeds for all, to take you swiftly across the land. I will spend the day carrying the message through the other enclaves of Silvans telling them whom they must honour tomorrow night. Stay here yourself, with your newly arrived friends, ride out tomorrow with me, leaving others to begin the observances on the shore, and with the steeds I will provide, you should arrive late on the Night of the Names while there are still stars in the sky. There will be enough of you to welcome him, to greet him, if we are successful.’

‘It is a long way, sire’ Erestor said. ‘But the Lady Baralinith is known for the speed of the steeds in her care. It can be done.’

I nodded consent.

‘Very good. We will need to give thought for the comfort of our fellow-voyagers while we are gone. Erestor, Arveldir –you undoubtedly have the knowledge of this place that our Silvan friends will need. If you would, if you could spare the time, I would prefer it if you would stay here, with the newly-arrived, to help them settle in. Also, I would ask Merenor and Hanben to stay, with Thiriston and Canadion taking charge of my honour guard. Thus Parvon and Triwathon will be free to come with me.

‘I must confess it would be helpful to me to have Merenor and Hanben to hand,’ Cirdan said. ‘There will be some work to do on the ship before we can take her to a proper anchorage. Now, that I can manage with my other people, once the engines have been settled down. But no-one can fettle a Mersey Ferry quite like Hanben and Merenor.’

The day was spent spreading the word, greeting old friends and seeing how our fellow voyagers were settling in this strange, new world which many of them had thought forbidden them. Iauron kept Seamus at his side, Tharmeduil and Feril were nearby all the time, although my mother had left the vicinity. There was no sign of Legolas and Govon, but having had Baralinith’s assurances, I was able to push my worries away to the back of my mind.

By early afternoon, the plans were laid, I had spoken to more Silvans, and Nestoril tugged my hand.

‘Come, it is my turn for your company now. Just a little while, an hour at most...’

She led me away to the shore, where she stripped of her shoes, lifted her hems, and paddled in the sea while I watched.

‘I know what you were thinking,’ she said, dropping down beside me, salt water glittering in jewelled drops on her feet, the sand clinging.

‘About what, my love?’

‘About Merenor and Hanben, and Canadion and Thiriston. You want to give them a chance to catch up with their families... Thiriston seems to have so much family, suddenly...’

‘And poor Master Hanben has none, it seems.’

‘Well, he has Merenor, and his honour-sons, and Lhostor. I thought it was kind of you, to keep the family together.’

‘Kind? I?’

‘And Erestor and Arveldir, too; the newly-arrived need Arveldir, you need Erestor, or someone who knows their way around. But you won’t separate them. It is sweet.’

‘Hardly; they function far better as a team...’

‘But it means taking Parvon instead – oh, and Triwathon, thus getting them out of the way of Glorfindel’s enthusiasm... you are such a sensitive darling...’

I caught her hand in mine.

‘Enough, Ness!’ I said. ‘Sweet and sensitive...! If my father were to hear you say that, he would never speak to me again!’

Still, I had been surprised at how much I found I had missed my mother and had come to realise how important it was to be part of a loving family; it was true that I had been loath to separate my friends and companions from their loved ones. 

I had confirmation that keeping them together had been the right thing to do when I was an accidental third party witness to a meeting between Lhostor’s birth parents and his warrior foster-adars. It was restrained, then tearful, then joyous and grateful, albeit possibly embarrassing for Lhostor as both sets of parents recounted all the good things about their son, filling in the gaps of the lost years each for the others.

We gathered for the daymeal on the plain, and after it, I addressed the assembled elves before me; my Silvans still, not because they were my subjects, but because they were my responsibility, my extended family.

‘We have come a long way, my friends, across the years as well as the seas to this reunion. And I regret to say I will leave you shortly – not for long, for a few days only. There is something I must attend to elsewhere in Valinor. So I will not be here tomorrow for the Yule Day Feast, nor for the Night of the Names. This year, there should be fewer names to speak, and more elves to speak them. Lord Arveldir and Master Erestor will be here, to make sure none of you are alone, but, indeed, I am sure none of us need ever be alone again. And so tomorrow, on our Night of the Names, we will remember again those who are lost. I would call on Commanders Canadion and Thiriston to be Speaker of the First Name and First Respondent in token of their long and loyal service, and I wish you will remember, along with your personal dead, the name of my father who was the king before me. For he is still with Mandos, to my mother’s sorrow...’

Afterwards, Thiriston came over to me.

‘Sire – we are grateful for the honour, but... are you sure? There are plenty of others here who could lead the observances...’

‘There are. But you remember my father; Canadion, I know, does not. So tell him. Tell him about the king before me, tell them all, remind them. And... should Canadion ask, he’s to wear whatever he wants. Those shoes, if he likes, although they’re not very practical on sand, I do not think...’

Thiriston laughed.

‘He’s got some wedges, they should be a bit more stable... Thank you.’ He sobered suddenly. ‘Thank you, my king, for finding us, for rescuing us, for letting Canadion express himself in his own way...’

‘No, it is I must thank you and your husband, Thiriston, for your many years of service. And you know, your parents will be delighted to see you open the commemorations. Both sets of them.’


	38. 'Welcome to Valinor...'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Thranduil rides to the Halls of Mandos...

Mid-afternoon, Baralinith and Lauretindor arrived with an escort of two Maia, bringing with them the promised steeds, a fine, russet-coated elk for me and horses for the rest.

‘Seamus, can you ride?’ I asked, seeing my grandson hesitate.

‘Motorbikes, bicycles, jetskis, yes. But horses...? Well, how hard can it be?’

‘No elven steed would let you fall,’ I said. ‘But we have need of haste; ride with me. Sit before me on the elk; I used to carry your father so, and your uncles, although not all at once.’

‘And if you will, Seamus, you can ride with me later,’ Baralinith said. ‘But I will let you get used to your Daerada’s more staid riding style first.’

‘Staid?’ I queried, lifting an eyebrow and making her laugh. ‘We will see about staid...’

We passed across the land in breath-taking rush of hooves and song, heading through the flat lands between the Pelori and making west, ever west, taking note of nothing except the land in front of us, the russet-coated elk making easy work of bearing us both, Seamus relaxing into the pace and finding his balance easily. I had no idea where we were going, how far we had travelled, but when Baralinith called us to halt for the night, she nodded satisfaction.

‘We have covered a lot of ground,’ she said. ‘My friends will see to the animals, and we will eat and sleep; we ride early tomorrow and though the day.’

*

Our camp was laid in the midst of wide, sweeping pastures where grasses mingled with wild flowers. No pavilions that night, for we had far to ride and need of haste rather than privacy, and I woke in the early dawn to find the bedroll next to me empty, my wife absent.

She was not far, though; across the waving grasses I could see her amidst a patch of tall-stemmed flowers, their petals bright orange, and as she saw me wave, she beckoned me over.

‘Do you recognise these, my love?’ she asked. ‘Hawkbit, as lovely and as bright as I remember them from long ago...’

‘I had heard you were having a bad day,’ I said. ‘And thought two or three of these might cheer you.’ 

I cupped one of the flowers between my fingers; it all but filled my palm, growing huge here, the petals now revealed as yellow and orange, tipped with red. It looked exotic, somehow, not a modest little wildflower intended to cheer, but a big and bold bloom, a feast for the eyes.

‘And Feril told me how the plant was often used for kidney complaints,’ Nestoril said, laughing. ‘But even that did not spoil them for me.’

She sobered for a moment.

‘I think that was the day I knew you loved me,’ she said.

‘What a pity I did not realise it sooner for myself, dear Ness.’

‘Well, we found each other out, in the end.’ She took my hand and lifted up to kiss my cheek. ‘And here we are, still. Now, we will be looked for, there is far to go today.’

*

Although we were in a hurry, and pressed on as soon as we had broken our fast, we were still in the midst of the pastures when we halted for the day meal. We sat in a circle and gave thanks amongst ourselves for the Yule day feast.

‘In our former home, this would be the dark of the year,’ I said. ‘Lily and Crispin will be preparing for Christmas in a few days, wondering, perhaps, where we are. So I give thanks, too, for friends found in unexpected places. And now... now we ride until dusk, so gather yourselves, my friends.’

With Baralinith and her Lauretindor at our head, we rode on until the sky began to soften, halting our steeds just as the first star shone out. From somewhere, Parvon produced a bottle of red wine and poured it into the cups we had been using for water.

I lifted my wine to the sky.

‘Ness, if you would do the honours, my wife?’

She smiled and nodded.

‘My friends, my dear friends, this is our Night of the Names. Across this land, others will be asking, and I ask you – tonight, more than any other night before, I ask you – do you remember our dear King Oropher?’

‘I remember Oropher,’ I said. ‘A noble king, a loving father, if stern, if strict, then only because he knew how hard it was to be a king. I never doubted his love, nor his wisdom.’

‘And I remember Oropher,’ Baralinith said. ‘Stubborn old fellow, so stuck in his ways, so convinced he was right... so honourable...’

We went round again, remembering, and drank down the wine, and prepared to ride through the night.

And on through the night it went, memories shared out amongst us like sweets, Oropher this, Oropher that...

‘Mind, he was not always easy,’ one said. ‘But he kept us safe. Everything he did, he did for his Silvans. You had to respect him.’

Yes. You had to respect him, and I wondered if I deserved half the love I had from my people, or whether it was mostly because I was Oropher’s son. It mattered not, not now, not here.

At our head, Lauretindor lifted his hand and called in a clear voice. We slowed, our steeds coming to a canter, a trot, an easy, loping walk. Behind us, the sky was less deep and dark, and ahead a wall rose, set with magnificent gates.

Baralinith rode back to us.

‘Behold the entrance to the Halls of Mandos,’ she said.

*

We dismounted, tending to our steeds, thanking them for service, and walked the rest of the way, talking as we went, still remembering my father.

To my surprise, as we neared the gates I could see a little cluster of elves gathered around a fire. There were not many, but they stood to wave, I saw my mother with her arm loosely about a tall ans shining ellon who I knew so well... and I was running, suddenly, thoughts of my father forgotten as I saw my son.

‘Legolas!’

‘Adar!’

They had found him clothing more suited to his station than the jeans and shirt he had been wearing when he arrived; he looked a Sinda prince again, in an ice blue coat with silver threads, a white tunic beneath, darker leggings and boots. There was a glint, a gleam of hidden brightness about him, as if there was a light hidden beneath his garments.

‘Adar, yes, I’m fine, really, I feel fine now...’

‘There is such a light in your eyes, my leaf...’

He laughed suddenly.

‘Yes, they say it is Naneth peeking out! Did you know, she is Maia? Well, I have her love for our forest in my fëa, and the further I went from it, and the less of it there was, the harder I found it to keep from fading... they tell me the shining thing will stop, soon enough, once I have settled down to being here and connected with other trees, with those in Oromë’s forests, perhaps. But, Ada!’ He hugged me suddenly, alive and vital and laughing in my arms. ‘Do not look so sombre! We are here, and we are safe, and I am fine, and Govon escaped with just a bruise...’

Govon, at my son’s side as always, a twenty first century anachronism in a tee shirt and jeans, grinned as Legolas went on.

‘...but Elrond has had to have his nose reset,’ Legolas said. ‘Fortunately, Govon’s hand wasn’t broken.’

I hugged my son again, included my honour-son in my arms.

‘There are other people to meet, Legolas,’ I said. ‘Your mother...’

‘Yes, oh, Naneth, it is lovely to see you... she came to visit last night, so... it’s all a bit much to take in, to be honest. At least we know where we are with the Night of the Names...’

We gathered together, and sat, and talked again of my father, offering our memories and his name to the heavens as much as we could, hoping that all over Valinor, our friends were doing likewise. Through the night, we were joined by other Silvans, arriving from near-by enclaves to add their voices to ours, remembering with us.

Finally, dawn swept over us. The stars faded. The Night of the Names was over.

I exhaled heavily as everyone fell silent; it felt as if we had failed.

The sun lifted into the sky. The Silvans around me offered up a song anyway, a melody of sunrise, of a new day dawning, their voices so loud and clear that almost the crack of a lock turning went unheard.

A dark line grew between the great gates as they pushed open and a figure, utterly dwarfed by their height, faltered through to stand and stare at us across the plain.

An ellon taller than me, hair more silvered, eyes more blue. Fuller lips, stronger jaw, more broken about the eyes than ever I was. Still clad in the old and bitter armour of the Last Alliance, still stained with the blood of his old wounds...

My father.

Everyone stood, dropped to their knees, hands to their hearts. I heard my mother gasp. Only I was left, only I began to walk, to run, to hurtle towards him, to stare into his wondering eyes and clasp his arm in greeting.

‘Thranduil? Ion-nin?’

My father, Oropher. Our king, the one the Silvans asked for, the one in whose name they followed me. My Adar.

The helm he held loosely in one hand clattered to the ground and he put his arms out, leaning heavily against me, holding, holding on, released into this strange, wide world of huge skies and billowing grass and sweet, soft air.

‘My son... Oh, Thranduil, what is all this...?’

‘Hello, Ada,’ I said. ‘Welcome to Valinor.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that Canadion's fashion-sense and choice of bags and shoes is entirely his own; other brands are available.
> 
> The description of Oropher is (very) loosely based on Kimberley80’s work from Deviant Art.


End file.
